“Contemplation”
I am distracted by the grey mizzle of rain,
fragments of fluids in motion
in sincere rippling cadence
against my window.
A sweet ambrosial rain that remembers
me to innocence and
wonder
and a time my soul was dry and
frail.
I so fear being old and not
grown. The dull thunder
squeezes more
rain, and I can see no reflection in the
pane, yet my face is in every drop
every smooth, silver drop.