Dark cumulus storm clouds frown on my figure
Showering me with melancholy tear drops
Bleak winds nip at my now crimson cheeks
I scramble to the shelter of my old Pontiac
In the frigid drivers seat I plant my bum
Raindrops continue to scatter across my windshield
Thunderclaps echo as each drop explodes upon impact
The scattered driplets combine into one and quickly descend
down the face of my window and into a puddle within my soul.
Overwhelming my heart with great sadness and grief
Only the celestial sun can dry up this puddle inside me
filled with heavens tears of unmeasured rapture.
From the June 22-28, 2005, issue