rain slides down the window in rough sheets
\nthe garden drips and broods unseen alone
\nas if the birds were gone they sing unheard
\nthe very walls hang portraits of gray stone<\/p>\n
slow water dripping softly in the sink
\ngives rhythm to our thoughts and muttered words
\na cat observes a spider weaving nothing
\nand writing this seems just a bit absurd<\/p>\n
fingers frozen in idyllic pose
\nanticipate a past when things got done
\nno sword I clutch\u00a0 no ploughshare shapes my palm
\nmy disposition strikes all anthems dumb<\/p>\n
Instead I sit and listen to the rain
\nand drink the drops that dull all endings’ pain<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
rain slides down the window in rough sheets the garden drips and broods unseen alone as if the birds were gone they sing unheard the very walls hang portraits of gray stone slow water dripping softly in the sink gives … Continue reading