A poem I wrote May 28, 2013...
It only seems to rain at night.
Fog in the morning;
Blue sky at noon;
The crash of thunder in the evening;
But cleansing rain?
It only seems to come at night.
The day is long and hot and dry.
The day is thirsty--
with a scratchy throat and a parched tongue.
But it only seems to rain at night.
The day is dirty; filthy from its toiling--
earth beneath its fingernails,
sweat stains on its shirt,
and secrets hidden in the folds of it skin.
But it only seems to rain at night.
My body is older.
My mind is weaker.
My soul shrivels in the noonday sun.
I long for rejuvenation.
I pant for refreshment.
I yearn to sprout, to bud and to blossom.
But whenever it rains--I am asleep
Because it only seems to rain at night.
