There are days of constant rain
like when we listened both
and there will be more of those,
I shall listen on my own,
the sound of it, the countless drops,
a persistent background river.
There are days of constant dripping,
reminding me of our silence,
those will be there,
more days of constant pain,
the memory of constant rain,
the sound of it. The shiver.
And every drop carries your name,
each one a bullit sent to hurt.
Those are days of endless gunshots
till the last ones tick away.
Cold the air then, back to silence,
still remaining guilt and quiver.
Comments on: "Cold rain" (12)
beautiful and bittersweet poem , Ina.
Hi Francina, thank you!
“Cold the air then, back to silence,
Still remaining guilt and quiver”
Ina I can feel this moment. This sequence in life.
Hi Walter, thank you!
“Those are days of endless gunshots” – good one!
M
Hi kvennarad, thank you!
Very moving, brought me right in the heart of something very personal for me right now. The last line is so unique and powerful:
‘still remaining guilt and quiver’
Hi Diane, thank you.
A sad beauty…
Hi clinock, thank you!
This is stellar.
Thank you !