The Rain

Written by: Kelly McDonald

Rain, like angry teardrops, forges rivulets down the window pane
while threatening gray clouds thunder above, 
fat with their delivery

Flickering power dances with the lightning in a contest of shadows
as heavy pressure and dampness seep into the marrow 
of my fragile frame

Frantic winds change the relentless direction of the deluge as
miniature rivers form, washing away the residue of the atmosphere
before the storm

Darkness comes, and the bitter intensity becomes palpable
Weary windows shudder in their frames as whispering howls
sneak through timeworn crevices

Daunting years of collective conscience suggest a safe place to hide,
as all of the percipient creatures on the other side of the pane
have already attained

But, numbed by the continuous oblivious walk of humanity, I stay
Even though leaning against the moaning glass is not safe, I stay
…..to watch the rain.