My Dappled Brain
here comes the rain pounding on my dappled brain,
so sodden wet, clattering sounds between my ears.
the plip and plop water torture, day after Winter day.
i might go insane with sure gong, gray kettle of tears.
the pitter and patter as if children making faces at the glass.
a searing sound that even the molding oaks are tired of.
the slippery sludge of mudding earth mixed in with leaves,
cleave like skeletal fingers fraught with fearful flood from above.
oh these breaking clay skies, colorless sans lightning,
no exciting zigzag wag nor snowball throwing hail.
not requesting a storm, rather, i’d like to see sunflowers
and dandelions raining seeds, a blue sky with sails.
1/23/2020
Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2020
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