Rain comes at night
wandering between buildings,
wearing a long black coat
and the silent hours.
Pink tulips beside the walk
dip their heads,
delicate and disappointed
as fallen birds.
Slate roofs facing the moon
shine for the rain
but feel nothing, admit nothing
aloof and blank.
Rain is the sky's child
but dies earthbound.
Tulips in their headscarves
mourn in
performative
pantomime.
_________
For What's Going On? "Rain".
"wearing a long black coat
ReplyDeleteand the silent hours."
Neat personification, though I liked the rain better wandering than dead. That's a short life from sky to earth. I enjoy your characterization of slate roofs and tulips as well.
"Rain is the sky's child
ReplyDeletebut dies earthbound." Never thought of it quite that way, but so very true. Your personification in this piece makes your poem come alive!
So breathtaking. The tulips as disappointed as fallen birds......I LOVE "Rain is the sky's child but dies earthbound." A whole new thought that only you could think. Gorgeous writing, Shay.
ReplyDeleteThis is so beautiful. Your ending brought tears. You never cease to amaze me with your writing. Thanks for reading my haiku. :)
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poetry, Shay. That last stanza is stunningly good. "Rain...the sky's child." "Tulips in their headscarves" --- Poetic profundity.
ReplyDeleteNaughty, playful (up to some mischief perhaps?) rains , drama queen tulips and the apathetic slate roofs are quite characters here! Wow!! Sky's child and its final parting is sad, though. This poem is a beauty.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful and delicate as a close up of a drop of rain, reflecting back the eye that sees it, transparent yet holding a myriad of shades of mood and color. You capture the sweetness and beauty of what depends upon rain for it's life, and also the melancholy of rain's brevity and silence. Exceptional work with the metaphor, and a delight to read.
ReplyDeleteYou already know I love this. Your powers of personification in this poem are on full display and the noir connection/effect is dazzling. The long black coats, the silent street, the pink tulips all brought up the image of the fair and mysterious lady, femme fatale, on the dark street with her dress strikingly reflected in rain puddles. Gorgeous poem, Shay.
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