Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2019
pitter
patter

rain taps glass
                                   the beat  changing
                   
                                  sometimes
  on a dime

                             then just a nickle
    all the way down
                         to a penny

    no rhyme or reason
just naked drops of raw

improvisation
              
                   soft

with thoughts
          
                            flowing freely

and happily        

while windshield wipers

                                                wipe

awa­y
                            any feelings

of sadness

                                                or consternation

Whit Howland © 2019
Whit Howland
Written by
Whit Howland
260
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems