Call distant memories to mind.
I'm thirty-six, staring past the window sill,
Drinking a glass of red wine.
I'm twenty-eight, working late,
Struggling against a deadline.
I'm twenty-one, kissing my boyfriend,
Our bodies intertwined.
I'm fifteen, writing in my journal,
Questioning mankind.
I'm eleven, drawing silly pictures,
Without direction or design.
I'm seven, staring out towards the sky,
My imagination unconfined.
The sound of raindrops brings back simpler moments
That real life leaves behind.
Lovely poem! I love listening to the rain. It's always so comforting and calm.
ReplyDeleteIt really is! Sometimes I get the deepest sleep during the hardest rainfalls.
DeleteWhat a lovely poem. :) I love the rain, and this connection of rain and memory feels poignant and beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThank you Sara!
DeleteI've always loved the rain. I even gave my younger daughter the second name Raine. I like how this poem brings back my own memories of rain through the years. Beautifully written.
ReplyDeleteRaine is a beautiful name! My daughter's middle name is Sky. Before she was born my husband and I used to go on picnics and just lay on the grass and stare up at the sky and talk the afternoon away. It was perfect. 😊
Delete