September rain falls somewhere on the river stream.
The city flows on the tracks.
And somewhere in the city, a pensive dream
grows behind the window screen.
The curtain stirs, and someone who has chosen to stay
back at home to clean the cobwebs gathered long,
tosses the curtain aside.
The wind rushes in, sweeps across the room.
the rain and the wind, the wind and the sun,
and the sun swinging in on the cloud's wings;
there is no room for the woman's plaintive notes.
This is not the way the rain should come.
On her guard, circumspect,
she watches the world washed up clean,
The pools of the rain water
have not grown murky yet,
but the pigeons are hiding sluggishly
worrying over the disappearance of the crumbs of bread.
A mysterious caravan follows the rain,
from the land of wind-driven dust
to the land of unpredictable river beds.
Thank you Souheil Ghammachi for the image and the empathy
The city flows on the tracks.
And somewhere in the city, a pensive dream
grows behind the window screen.
The curtain stirs, and someone who has chosen to stay
back at home to clean the cobwebs gathered long,
tosses the curtain aside.
The wind rushes in, sweeps across the room.
the rain and the wind, the wind and the sun,
and the sun swinging in on the cloud's wings;
there is no room for the woman's plaintive notes.
This is not the way the rain should come.
On her guard, circumspect,
she watches the world washed up clean,
The pools of the rain water
have not grown murky yet,
but the pigeons are hiding sluggishly
worrying over the disappearance of the crumbs of bread.
A mysterious caravan follows the rain,
from the land of wind-driven dust
to the land of unpredictable river beds.
Thank you Souheil Ghammachi for the image and the empathy
It's a sad and rainy day, but what other kind of day is there?
Rain hits the window, and bursts (Like my heart at the seams)
Howling wind blows away any happy dreams.
I look at the once sunny, desolate, lifeless land.
Then I feel something cool on my hand.
~ Alexander Smith "Rainshine"
Rain hits the window, and bursts (Like my heart at the seams)
Howling wind blows away any happy dreams.
I look at the once sunny, desolate, lifeless land.
Then I feel something cool on my hand.
~ Alexander Smith "Rainshine"
3
20
REPLY Jun 29, 2017 - Jun 29, 2017
- 'unpredictable river beds' love the flow of thought, and sound of
poem...
+Sushama Karnik...
these moods I like and the image
too... a nostalgia...
thanks +Souheil Ghammachi
you select well.REPLY
