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A Death in the Rain

When I die, let it rain. I have always wanted to die when rain is all can be heard. When water pours like glass beads from heavenly hands, and stands among terraced trees, and spills down grassy lanes, and gathers like birds on a windowsill, tap-tapping the panes. When I die, let it rain. Sometimes…

Run On

Bells are ringing if only in my mind, Eyes closed, are you sleeping? Designed and refined, now all left behind, Life defined by leaving. Wind is blowing along the hollow lane, No more happy panting. A gentle touch beneath the fur; no pain To quiet your prancing. Water is filling the holes in the lawn,…

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