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A Rhythm to the Rain

A river between clouds

rerouted to my roof,

there is a rhythm to the rain

and each storm a different beat.

All the cars,

all of the pavement,

every blade of grass gets touched.

Thorough and full,

steady in its douse,

smacking on impact,

thick like a Roman column.

The universe is a brain

and there is consciousness in this downpour.

Running from whichever door

to whichever other door,

each moment is extended,

but it was only 7 minutes straight thru.

Watching from an eave

the people scurrying like mice,

the rain letting up a bit,

deceiving that it’s done,

just to lay on heavier than before.

All this while I watch

feels like a series of lifetimes

linked into one spectacular finale.

I like the rain,

but the rain does not care.

It just rains.

And I like that too.

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Cathleen Barnes
Cathleen Barnes
15 Agu 2019

A Rhythm to the Rain reminded me of all the times we would sit under the carport, watching and listening to (and smelling!) the rains. Touched all the senses, as did your poem. ♥️

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