November

The streets down here are disappearing
and yet nothing is so thoroughly flooded
as my morale, as I miss the desert
counting rainy days down ’til I bloom

The rain has never broken my windows
flooded my garden
nor the winter broken my spirit
and yet every year,
I think it might

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4 Comments

Filed under Poetry

4 responses to “November

  1. Rain has always had the effect of both delighting and scaring me. The first because it helps me sleep and the latter because it brings to mind fearful days trying to live through hurricanes when I lived in the Caribbean with my children. Lovely piece!

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