There is a slight relief that comes with rain
although it empties parks and halts the play
mid set; or when we amble off the train

and make a dash for shelter, our baby
exposed for a moment to the deluge.
The relief settled in because, maybe,

the morning’s shouting match wasn’t assuaged
by mumbled sorrys heading out the door,
and their effectiveness cannot be guaged

against a sheet where hubby points are scored.
Perhaps it’s because nothing can hold tight
against the torrents of the hard downpour

that does not discern who was wrong or right.


1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. peter litton
    Jul 03, 2012 @ 23:19:59

    I like this poem because each sentence stands out strongly.
    It’s hard introspective thoughts cast as words.


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