There are no stars tonight. The sky is
alone and my skin waits
patiently for the rain.
Our roses withered and died that summer.
You blamed God, but He did not let
dust gather on the only tin watering can
The day you left me in a flower shop,
I decided to put what was left of my faith in an old
man spouting clichés to his granddaughter.
"If you don't like the weather here, wait a couple of minutes."
Half a year and I am still praying for a storm
to cool me down.
Something that just spilled out of me tonight while sitting in my thinking chair. I'm ready for this to be over. Let me know what you think readers.
Nice storytelling. You seemed to tap into a couple different sources for effect and I dig it. I especially like the redirected blame on the dead and withered roses, and how you followed that up with putting faith in ordinary, perhaps wiser, folks. Nicely done.
I like it, especially the last line.
It's very simple. I believe many people can relate, we are the ones that find ourselves dancing for rain.
The words pill like gold here. To me, this is one of the best I've read from you in a long time.
Wow thank you This is one I tried not rely heavily on strange images and word play and I'm happy with it.I'm also very happy that you think it works
i love this piece. it tells such a story and the last line really hit me. nice work
More straightforward and focused than your usual writing, but I like where you took the thought. I quite liked that bit about putting your faith into the grandfather speaking to his granddaughter.. Observations of other folks tend to lend us what we need to carry on a bit further sometimes.