Somewhere Not Here
by Steve Mitchell
A rain drop
a lonely drop
that’s not so bad.
And another drop
round and blue.
It lands with a tap.
Then, and then,
another drop falls
and another drop and another tap,
drop after drop, tap and tap, side by side,
in groups and in streams, drop and drop and drop they fall.
They drop with abandon, with reckless courage, blind and bleak,
drop and drop and drop they fall on windshields and high wires and guardrails
and ducks in the pond and newspaper umbrellas and wet bags of garbage and
benches and bikes, and drop and drop, the raindrops fall
while clouds huddle close to watch.
© Steve Mitchell 2015