Rain
I see from my window
rain falling again.
I've woken to another
moist summer day.
I hear the pitter pattter
on my skylights above.
Softly at first then
louder like a drum.
I feel the rain on my skin.
I just let it flow.
As I step out to my garden
and rose bushes below.
I touch their wet petals.
The raindrops roll
into my open palm.
Into my soul.
Rain here is different.
Falls softly on your skin.
More like gentle kisses.
No need to go back in.
Copyright © Jean Murray | Year Posted 2016
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