The rain

And it really comes down too- washing away the grit and dust. Security, hope and safe passage. 

A hovel or hotel to hang your towels. High and dry above the tide. Water mark memory. Sink or swim mentality erodes at us. 

One was once naturally occurring- locked away we fear and follow weather reports lusting after our demise. At all the doors and windows. Peeking in as we peer out. Licking at our scarves, washing at our shoes. No more removed as it taps gently, or howls at from the trees. Peeling down the hall, under doors, through keyholes. The wind of change, lazily blows through you. Ultimately.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s