Nor The Rain
A poem reacting to a pleasantly unexpected series of events
Your train motions Cutting through this night And I stand here Allowing my eyes to carry it
I don’t feel the cold Nor the rain Just the memory Of your hand holding my face
Its gentle embrace Imparted a promise Upon my cheek Of its return to me
Walking home I trembled But not from the cold Nor the rain
Just the thought of knowing That your hand’s promise Seeped its way into my skin And is being held by the memory
Body on course My thoughts did tremble But not by the cold Nor the rain
But simply by knowing That your hand’s promise Successfully warmed my heart This winter night
I still don’t feel the cold Nor the rain I hope I never feel them both again.
© Rose Butcher, 2020. All rights reserved.
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