Categories
Poetry

warm rain on tuesday

My hand swings back behind me and 

There’s raindrops on my fingertips,

The light can’t seem to find me

But the fractals from the sky just drip.

The water touches gently and

They kiss the soft ends of my hands.

Softer still the skin beneath and

Light reflects like grains of sand.

Lazy sunlight seeps down slow and

Foggy daylight paints a dream.

Footsteps echo as they fall and

Dewy grass glades cut and gleam.

Leave a Reply

Discover more from Annalog

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading