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Waiting in the Rain

January 6, 2022

While I’m waiting, I am

Distilling neon signs in a drop

Of rain, nearby the rushing

Of the world’s many neurons,

Held by the weight of stillness:

The back and forth and back of

This daily game of hide-and-seek.

While I’m waiting to go inside,

 

I’m frozen—hidden—alone.

 

While I’m waiting, I am

Pouring my focus out to see

If the droplet intentionally set

Before my eyes, and suspending

From the bending branch, can hold

The light close with some success.

I then can see now where I need

to be in this long-captured moment:

 

Distilled, held, and embraced.

 

And in the end, I am found out.

The light and I have no choice

But to be bent, and rounded,

By the raindrop’s surface—and I

Watch as it shivers in the evening

Breeze off the highway, breathing

The fumes of winter passing through.

And sure enough, I shiver with it.

 

And while I wait, I feel alive.

1 Comment

  1. Sarah

    This. is. fire! You use imagery and diction so well. The last line is beautiful, “And while I wait, I feel alive.”

    Reply

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