For a Change: Short Story
Aren Perry
Looking out my acquainted window
before my final glance, I never took the time to just look
youth, slow rain drops seen from the silent room
hear nothing save the pounding of slow rain
warm thoughts are found on a walk, ordered just for two
drips pound the floor bringing memories wet on clothing
together, collecting into a symphony from the past present
I came here obscure, purpose unknown
moments of sacred reminisce are remiss to be ignored,
too hard to be cherised in failing words.
leaving for the last, I splash on the ground joining the symphony past
the rain that never stops
silently guided on fateful wind
life picks up,
I move on
Comments
Interesting poem. A little obscure, though.
Thanks Aren. We needed this.
Interesting, voted
This is actually a good poem
Welcome to the real world. It's way too early to get sentimental, you have 5 or 10 years before you'll really miss it.