Caren Krutsinger Poet Lyric

The Rain Drop

Chances of precipitation zero.  Chances of dew, zero.  Chances of a raindrop, one hundred percent, as she was spotted in the sky about six seconds ago.  If Adrianna lands here, how will we collect her?  Who gets access? Where was the sighting? How accurate is the intel?

The ants had already dug a pond in their anthill in case she landed there.  The beetles came around and tried to suck up to the ants, but they briskly shooed them off.   The faeries were the tellers of the tale; the sighting, after all, had come from their high-flying ally, eagle.   The faeries, like the elves, and nymphs, were pretending they might share Adrianna, knowing full well they would rather fight to the death than share her.

The owls had set mint cups out on their oak leaf branches, hoping she would land in one of them.  The entire village was abuzz.  No one had seen a raindrop here for twenty-two minutes, four hours, and sixty-three days.

One tiny raindrop – named Raindrop Adrianna was spotted in the sky, six seconds ago.  Suddenly brothers and sisters were fighting, wrens and robins were not speaking.  Faeries and nymphs were lying.  It was not unusual for one little harmless raindrop to start world war six, which is why we always name our raindrops after women.   The eagles and the owls had not been speaking for decades, over the last raindrop.  

Raindrop Adrianna had turned the whole world upside down.  She probably had no idea what turmoil she had started, as she had already landed on a grateful red tulip, on the other side of the village. We told Adrianna’s story until World War Seven, which was started by Raindrop Rhoda.


Written 11-16-2018
Contest: The Raindrop Poetry Contest     Sponsor: Craig Cornish

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M. L. Kiser November 18, 2018 at 2:07 PM Whew! You had me going there for a bit. Wonderful story, wonderful metaphor. Caren Krutsinger November 18, 2018 at 3:33 PM Thank you. Some of these run away from me, and I frankly have no idea what they are going to do. This was one of those.

Rhona Mcferran November 17, 2018 at 4:07 PM I love how some of your poems seem to just be telling an entertaining story, and then a moment later I realize there's a second meaning underneath the surface... and this was a terrific example! Fantastic write!! ;) Caren Krutsinger November 17, 2018 at 4:25 PM I have missed you so much, and now I have to say as much as I LOVE all of your comments, you are such a terrific writer, my friend, please spend time writing some new poems for us!

Wren Rushing November 16, 2018 at 5:03 PM It is just like like those beetles to try and suck up! Great story as usual. Caren Krutsinger November 16, 2018 at 10:07 PM Thank you Wren. I like your new AVATAR!!!!!