Sitting, watching, the constant
drizzle of the rain. I want
to turn my thought to days
of sunshine, warmth, laughter.
Yet while more pleasant thoughts
are spinning around me, there
is an irresistable force that implores
me to consider this dismal display
of nature’s handiwork.
It is part of me — my life — a
reality of the world around me.
I’m somewhat like those drops
of rain that hold tenaciously to
the branch, never realizing the
sweet surrender to the earth once
it has let go —

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Poem written December, 1982

March 15, 2020