It has been raining off and on where I live. We’ve had a couple lightning storms, which were exciting, but mostly it’s been wet. With rain on the brain, I thought I’d post a poem I wrote during another rainy season entitled, “Soaked Through.” This poem was part of my third collection, Shadow and Memory.
Soaked Through
Everything is wet.
Rain trickles down
listless tree limbs,
rooflines shed drops
onto the swollen ground,
and I look at the colorless horizon
through tear-splotched windows.
Before long,
I’ll be out in it.
Rain will splash my glasses
and roll down my cheek;
it will penetrate my clothes
and I’ll be soaked through
to my skin.
A Wandering Minstrel 