Sometimes it is raining
thick dark thuds from a sky so pale and blue
grey like behind your eyes
and your voice each bitter droplet falling
endlessly upon my head
today
i left my umbrella at home in my
mind i see it resting against walls of hollow brown
amber light painting it with dark shadows like
those which rest beneath your eyes
exactly like the words which creep from your mouth in
the silence of the night
the table at dinner
breakfast I watch the sky opening through the window and
the trickle against the empty white pane sounds soft
against your scowl and the child
biting at your tongue
unannounced, unexpected and me
here
with thoughts begging you to stop but
sometimes it is raining.
