As If the Skies Were Crying, Too

    There is a difference between knowing a poem would work better in rhyme and MAKING it rhyme. Rhyming words were hard to find, the emotions behind them, were easy. This was obviously inspired in part by our spring's lack of sun, but mainly by our lack of son. We are blessed both to live by the Stillwater River, and to live high above the Stillwater River. Those waters will not touch us--only tears.

As If the Skies Were Crying Too

Our spring has come with endless rain 

 and sunless days, much like our lives,

darkened with gray clouds of pain.

Each time we visit your graveside,

the wind blows cold and chills us through

as if the wind was wailing, too.

 

The rain has joined the melting snow.

Cold, muddy rivers overflow,

 alter their course, and others' lives,

burying familiar things, breaking as they go.

What floods destroy, they can’t undo

as if the water’s woeful, too.

 

We cannot change the floods that grow

from melting snow and too much rain.

Or choose the path your life should go

or bring you back to us again.

The rain won’t stop, drops fall anew,

as if the skies were crying, too.

 

6/17/22