at the window

i sit at the window
thinking of our last conversation
barely able to see the garden
behind the torrents of rain pelting the summer screens

betrayal-sized hail
disturbs the solace of the terrace

the sun is prisoner
behind the swirling charcoal clouds of dishonesty
and there he shall stay wrapped in the dark cloud’s warmth

but the rain is good for the garden
after the rain the garden renews, heals, forgives and grows.

at the window

shadowcat1313

Joined February 2009

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