Nobody, Not Even The Rain, Has Such Small Hands (Part I)
The rain moves in one solid direction
Just like a fan is pushing it there
I look out the window
Splattered gently with lost water droplets
Destinations unknown
Quiet, still
Waiting for the sun to wash them away
The window cleaner of the sky
Job never-ending
Fallen leaves taint the serenity of a new morning
Bright oranges fading to brown
With rot
And the rain that never stops
Heavy rain
Curtains closed
Shut off from the world
Not wanting to face another day
Another challenge
Trivial matters of another plain man
But my curtains thrust open
I am ready to face the day
Here, in the comfort of my home
Writing of other peoples’ problems
Title is a reference to one of my favourite poems, Somewhere I Have Never Travelled by E. E. Cummings.
