Rain lashes on heavily
and there's no cover
except the loneliness one feels.
Bound together in an unease.
A young couple is restless to get home.
The older ones are splitting the time left--
Too much and too little--
counting the drops leaking from the roof.
"Many rains ago....",
they saunter off into a wander.
Flitting like moths
into an unfelt distance.
The sparkling tongue of the road
extends into darkness.
And things slip by in a general hurry
towards a blanket of warmth.
In this downpour
memories take shelter in our minds.
Loves are lost and found, and lost again.
The "could have" moments flash by
Not that re-living makes any sense.
But the vacant place left by them
implodes yet again in silence
within the alcoves of hearts.
Countless sensitive things rise up
as the smoke from an asphalt skin.
Sighs and plans
to only move forward take shape.
The rain stops for now.
Things are left to the past.
Letting us go from its grip.
And everything waits around.
For another downpour.
1 comment:
"The sparkling tongue of the road.." How do you come up with these ?
Very nice !
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