Deluge on the porch
I watched it from my window,
hypnotized by the rain drops making patterns on the glass.
My forehead pressed against the pane,
I wasn’t sure if I was searching for answers
or calming the pressure in my head.
Now I sit, perched on my banister
tea cooling by my feet, watching
clouds shift shape and color every
moment that goes by.
I can only think of love and loss
every moment of every day.
I’m jealous of those clouds –
always changing form, color, shape
always moving, searching for a new soul
to drown with a deluge.
/ / /
September 2, 2014
Bellefonte porch poem