the air, cold in the bottom of my lungs,
calls me out to face the chill,
let raindrops bless my skin,
gaze up, squinting into the sky,
and feel tiny droplets scatter on my cheeks like freckles

i love rainy, cold weather,
i love letting my sleeves fall down over my hands
i love too-wide smiles and wet toes from splashing
in puddles full of mud and hazy reflections of people i love

i love the shiver down my spine
whenever i step out the door,
walking between school buildings with friends,
laughing as loudly as we can
tucking strands of wet hair behind our ears,
checking everyone's backpacks are closed
to protect english papers and math homework

i breathe deeper in the autumn
because the bite of the cold at the sides of my lungs
gives a high i can't replicate
any other time of year

the bell jingles as she steps into the holiday stationstore
on the corner of two discarded streets, signs too battered to read
there was free hot chocolate on tuesdays
it was always a little too sweet
the cream-colored tile is stained by thousands of half-cleaned messes
the faint squeak of the roller grill complimenting
cheesy pop music
bright packages scream brand names she never buys
she picks a cup, the smallest size
and fills it
ignoring the drips of pumpkin spice on the counter,
left by a hurried predecessor
she adds cream
she doesn't think about the calories
she doesn't think about what her friends are up to
she doesn't think about how much she hates hearing this **** song
she thinks about grabbing a snickers for the road
shredded black combat boots thump to the register
she sets her snickers bar on the counter
paying the cashier (jeremy) with a crumpled dollar bill
his gray eyes brim with something like pity, like they do every week
she pretends not to see
he says something
she pretends not to hear
he says something else
she walks out
icy rain makes her pull her hood tighter
she sips the cocoa
it always was a little too sweet

The rain came down
The river rushed,
as was warranted for flooding.

...want M&M's right now!


(sonnet #MMMMMMMCDXIX)


Out where a fragile silence listens, pale
Sweet minutes on their honour as suspense
Hangs like the rick'ty signboard of what hence
Shall cough ere giving voice, yes, in that frail
Calm rain does not quite tiptoe through t'avail,
The voiceless naught is keenly for intents
Half harking to what we don't hear from thence
In all our haste to be, I search for bail.
Old pools of water, silver-faced, don't stir,
And crickets gently fiddle; cars pass through,
Truck sans a care, weeds look too yellow to
Be ransomed, and the eaves drip.  Oh, what were
We thinking, really?  Death knocks 'gain in tour
Yet we feign not to notice.  Ah, what's new?

30Sep18a

Rainy days and dripping windows,
Once again, beside my pillow,
I lay upon my bed alone,
But in a place to me, unknown.

Day two, beyond the first “hello’s”,
Clouds still hover, and even billow,
They say goodbye to each of their own,
They thunder and sprinkle before heading on home.

After their hastened diminuendo,
Most clouds scatter among the fellow.
I compare to them to see how I’ve grown,
knowing rain brings a harvest from a seed that was sewn.

Sun is trying to peep through the clouds,
breeze is there, without making a sound;
There is light spreading all around,
but the rainy clouds will start to astound.
This nature spell will keep you bound,
so you better stay firm and not swound.