“FOR GIRLS BORN ON THE RIVER”

Days without shadow,
I know the rain
wants to come down.
But the rain takes its time.
The rain takes all our time.
The rain is in no hurry
and neither are we;
not until we begin to feel
we are under its shadow.
Its quiet arrival
in dots,
then dashes,
make a small child
trace its meandering path
d
 o
  w
 n
.
I do the same. Both of us;
our fingers ending at the sill
of our own respective panes,
longing for a continuation
of this drip or that.

narrative poem written on 10-03-2014 by: on mattkane.com
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