Rain.

The sound of rain
is calming
in its
fury and
in- consistent

f
a
L
l
i
N
g

on the roof
of this old warehouse.

Worn tin shatters against the affection
of the sky.
as the mistakes made in your mind
start to fill
Every cup of desperation
placed under rusted holes
spilling over, and over and

Over.
Finished.

The breath of rain
finds its place
upon your lingering thoughts
of what was,
and you can no longer
see what should be there.



-cayce jeanes