spring rains, mytholmroyd 2020

(A response to a prompt from The Time is Now: ‘write a poem that captures a moment in the rain, one that seems quiet or private but also carries emotional weight.’)

It felt different, this rain. Nothing like
those earlier ones, close to the edge or
over, shared sighs of relief at their end.
No need for sandbags this time. No use
for them either. This, a rainy interval.
A spring that no one expected
to turn out this sunny. This, a stranger
disaster: drops silent this time, edges
invisible. Too soon for sighs of relief.
For now, the beauty of raindrops
unmerged, each containing a world.

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