1st draft #3

(Drops)

I wish I could be loved.
Like a dog
Or the words that stir up thoughts
Of a dusky, drowsy pink,
Puffed out near evening in the sky.
As white clouds tinge and blush
And the Summer sun goes down.

And then
Quite gently
In the dark,

As crowds disperse
And leave behind the weary and the dissolute,
It rains.

Cold and rythmic patterns.
The thickening of air.
And the sound of raining drops
That pound the street like feet.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s