MOVING FASTER THAN NATURE
A single drop falls onto my head.
Perhaps I can walk
faster than the rain will come.
Another drop hits,
like a precise mark.
Suddenly, a cold wind
rips at my face.
The dark of night smells fantastic:
Flowers, and the onset of rain.
It's a bit quiet.
Windchimes, and sprinklers.
I get a calm, forboding feeling:
Something is about to happen.
Keep walking. Just keep walking.
Dark spots begin to fill the ground,
just as I make it up the stairs
and through my door.
The night breaks open.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Moving Faster Than Nature
Here's a less sarcastic, less bitter poem I wrote... I think I like this one.