*poem I wrote a couple weeks ago*
The town was grey this morning,
every inch of land drenched.
The rain kept falling
and I didn’t want to get out of bed,
didn’t want the slow downpour to end,
the strange calmness of it.
Lights off, blinds closed tight,
I could almost feel the clouds rolling through,
their beautiful darkness,
how they lingered.
Something about this morning-
relief from weeks of pure, dry heat,
the sun’s absence,
a record spinning, crackling like fire-
it felt as if the town
was taking a breath,
listening to the sound of rain
on pavement and gutters,
reminding itself that sometimes
the best moments are the ones
when nothing really happens,
when life slows down,
when the day hasn’t quite begun.