Rainy Day Song
A song about raindrops
shot straight to the top
like a lightning bolt;
“Raindrops keep falling on my head,
they keep falling;
because I'm free,
nothin's worryin' me.”
Remember that song?
Was that someone who
just got out of prison?
Couldn't've been written by a woman;
heavy rain, falling on our heads,
plasters hair to our scalps
like swim caps, or a stocking mask-
unless, we wear natural curls-
then it shrinks up, kinks up,
like a wool sweater,
boiled in hot water.
Today, the raindrops
weren't simply falling,
they pounded the roof, as if
they were attempting to mimic hail,
or, better yet, douse the fires of hell.
Lightning bolts were in it as well,
flashing light at 4:00 AM,
shocking sleep right out of our brains.
But the sound, the sound
of those raindrops filled the house,
brought childhood rushing back,
with the sound of raindrops
beating a tattoo on that old tin roof.
Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014
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