that comes down
is rain…
You sense it
As the front moves in
And soon you’re in it
Pelted by everything
The storm can throw at you.
The world tilts
And the weathervanes
Are knocked off kilter.
You curse the gods
And dirty weather
Bear the tremors
And seek shelter.
It’s a cold rain
In November
And unlikely
To get better…
Life has a way
Of weighing you down
Wearing away
Like rain on rock
Until at last
You lie down
And die...
Or, the storm passes
And you get up
To face another crisis.
It’s hard
Trying to endure
And stay sane.
I think I can bear
Any pain...
Except cold November rain.