|Into the Rain
By kennethcook on 06/04/2013
The cold needles of icy rain
shower down on my uncovered head
like tiny shards of broken glass,
as I head out into the street;
my foot stepping into the wet,
leave-glutted gutter, and my clenched face
mercifully masked by the grey rain.
For I must keep it locked away, deep inside.
I cannot let the world see my pathetic tears.
I turn my drenched head slowly around
and gaze back at that place once more.
No goodbye from her; not even a smile.
The woman for whom my heart raced
thumped and fluttered, and my mind
burned, boiled, craved and desired
for three years is now gone from my life forever,
and my departure from her had all the impact
of a candle in a raging forest fire.
The memories rush into my churning brain:
Suppers, long walks, movies, conversations,
and one magical night of divine intimacy.
I turn my head away, and head to the bus stop,
while the chill wind continues to blow its
wet fury into my saturated face,
washing away the hot tears streaming from my eyes
and replacing them with the cool, silver
cleansing waters of a lonely new beginning.
Kenneth Norman Cook
By kennethcook On 6/4/2013 8:11:24 AM