The thing about rain is
the noise,
pattering on the roof
above my head as I type
disturbing the rhythm of my words.
The thing about rain is
the sound,
of tyres on steaming tarmac
outside my door.
The thing about rain is
the smell,
earthy, fungal, rich
reminding me I’m here
in the world, at this moment.
The thing about rain is,
the tactile memory of
streaming
running
surging
coolness on my skin.
I leave my desk and walk
to the forest
behind the house
ankle deep
wet moss between toes
wet hair, wet lips
tongue reaching out to taste,
what?
You’re not here
The thing about rain is,
it falls
Pour out your skies
of rain
damp tears, fetid fears
feeding the machine again
and then
there is this thing of
connectivity – do we need
more
or less
connection?
The confidence
to connect
or disconnect,
or reconnect, when connection
is required,
or is connection
the last thing in the world
we want.
Love 💖 this. It’s haunting and beautiful. I love the effect rain has in our senses, and you have captured this admirably xx
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You are allowed to be critical too. Thanks for the very encouraging feedback though – and I’ll be happy to reciprocate.
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