Post by PaperGrace on Jul 29, 2012 21:21:30 GMT -5
(As I mentioned in my Intro, I'll be posting a few of these small things I wrote a long time ago. Be patient with the young woman who wrote them... )
More Rain in B-town falling with an accompaniment of Thunder and Lightning. More Rain in B-town becoming a river down Battery Street--calling out to be paddled on, dodging anxious drivers, hydroplaning onto the sidewalks. More Rain beating against the windows of the restaurant. More Rain in B-town washing the cigarette butts into the storm drains and out into the lake. More Rain in B-town pulling the brown petals from the wilted flowers and making them new. More Rain snapping the twigs from trees in the park. More Rain in B-town chasing the pedestrians under awnings. More Rain in B-town driving the birds under the eaves. More Rain writing prophetic words on the surface of the Champlain. More Rain.
In honor of rain:
Walking to internal music through the streets of B-town, no faces behind dark umbrellas there a ladybug on a curved stick floats above a yellow child with a mischievous glint in her eyes, the water from her red rimmed boots' assault on a puddle soaks the hem of my trench.
A couple plays guitar in the park under the shelter of an amphitheatre. Rock Stars! No audience save for my form weaving through the green celestial branches. On grey wings I fly, dodging raindrops, singing my own songs, harmonizing with the wind, keeping beat with the patter of sky-water falling.
Slipping beneath the waves of the lake I play hide and seek, my form sleek. Flick of a tail splashes back at the air while we play a game mimicked on clear summer days by over heated children. Whiskers twitch; harp-strings under the Goddess' tears of joy, falling, dancing, playing the music that is with me as I return to the sidewalks and make my way home.
My trenchcoat leaves a puddle on the linoleum. Joy.
More Rain in B-town falling with an accompaniment of Thunder and Lightning. More Rain in B-town becoming a river down Battery Street--calling out to be paddled on, dodging anxious drivers, hydroplaning onto the sidewalks. More Rain beating against the windows of the restaurant. More Rain in B-town washing the cigarette butts into the storm drains and out into the lake. More Rain in B-town pulling the brown petals from the wilted flowers and making them new. More Rain snapping the twigs from trees in the park. More Rain in B-town chasing the pedestrians under awnings. More Rain in B-town driving the birds under the eaves. More Rain writing prophetic words on the surface of the Champlain. More Rain.
In honor of rain:
Walking to internal music through the streets of B-town, no faces behind dark umbrellas there a ladybug on a curved stick floats above a yellow child with a mischievous glint in her eyes, the water from her red rimmed boots' assault on a puddle soaks the hem of my trench.
A couple plays guitar in the park under the shelter of an amphitheatre. Rock Stars! No audience save for my form weaving through the green celestial branches. On grey wings I fly, dodging raindrops, singing my own songs, harmonizing with the wind, keeping beat with the patter of sky-water falling.
Slipping beneath the waves of the lake I play hide and seek, my form sleek. Flick of a tail splashes back at the air while we play a game mimicked on clear summer days by over heated children. Whiskers twitch; harp-strings under the Goddess' tears of joy, falling, dancing, playing the music that is with me as I return to the sidewalks and make my way home.
My trenchcoat leaves a puddle on the linoleum. Joy.