Why I Love the RainA Poem by R.Ivan
Underneath my 3rd story window
The serpentine alleyway floods
And augments the pitter-patter of this
Rare February rainstorm and I am
Instantly sucked into the buzzing vortex
Of my Minnesotan childhood,
Hearing that same pitter-patter from my
Father's drumming fingers on the
Dashboard of his
Indestructible Mazda minivan.
I smile, drowning in my
Battered red t-shirt my mother
Promised I'd grow into.
Licking my licorice lips
And awaken now to the roaring waves of the
Lake, with my lover on the lonely beach.
3am, she rapped on my window and
We stole an hour from God without
Paying the consequence, without Him catching us.
Simply fumbling to the light of the stars
We loved each other carelessly as though
Would never flee from us.
For an hour, I believed it wouldn't.
And now, here I am watching
Flashes roll down the wet Hollywood streets
Making rhythm with the rain like some
Out my window a black woman buys
Cigarettes from the gas station on Vineland.
She wears a big red t-shirt.
She looks up at my curious window, and
We are somehow forever connected in this storm.
If only I could reach out to her and
Show her what I see in this drizzling paradise,
And calling out to her
I could tell her
Why I love the rain.
© 2012 R.Ivan
Added on May 3, 2012
Last Updated on May 3, 2012