2012.03.09 — A sea of grey rain (A River of Stones#3-09)

A sea of grey rain
In this temperate rainforest
A sun all but lost.

2012.01.29 — There was a long pause (A River of Stones#1-29)

There was a long pause
just when the dull drone of rain
gave way to birdsong.

2012.01.28 — The draft of cold air across the floor (A River of Stones#1-28)

The draft of cold air across the floor
the heavy, heavy rain on the metal roof
are the abundance of winter.

2012.01.08 — The window keeps me dry from the wind blown rain. (A River of Stones#1-08)

The window keeps my clothes from getting wet from the wind blown rain.
I touched it — the window.
It feels cool and the heat of my fingers leaves ghosts
the wash of rain does not touch.

2012.01.04 — The old black bag, now faded and worn (A River of Stones#1-04)

The old black bag, now faded and worn,
struggles to hide senescence, decrepitude, decay.
The moon, awash behind heavy cloud and dark rain,
smiles brightly in the sea of black and ancient light pricks.

2011.03.03 — Rain pelted the glass (NaSmaStoMo#3-3)

Rain pelted the glass
while in the distance eagles
floated on sun beams.

2011.02.06 — Awash behind words (NaSmaStoMo#2-6)

Awash behind words
while raindrops pelt the windows
dribbling ideas.

2011.01.03 — April in December (NaSmaStoMo #3)

April in December
The sun sets regardless, the rain falls.
Carols sing, birds sing too.