Seasons

Written by Loulou


I watch the window, where the rain has dew drop races.
Out on the street, I see umbrella-sheltered faces.
My mind begins to wander to other rainy days,
You and I, no longer chasing the clouds away.

We’d be bareheaded and dancing in the downpour,
Singing tunelessly to make it rain some more.
Puddles as stepping stones, with squelching toes on lawns.
And later dripping wet, but not at all forlorn.

And then the bright-eyed, breathless removal of damp cotton.
Shivering though not cold, the weather now forgotten.
Wrapped up together listening to the drumming on the tiles,
And sleepily agreeing, that storms are best by miles.

Now, stood at the window and lost in recollection,
I fondly glimpse your face in the reflection.
I picture you there, tongue poised to catch the drops,
Face upturned, eyes screwed shut, puddles splashing into socks.

I ruefully suppress a smile, sigh and shake my head,
Thankful for your quiet company and a cup of tea instead.
But the rain was not enough to keep us both in check,
So now I’ll take the memories, and not the dripping down my neck.


Reflection comes in all forms within new contributor Loulou’s poetry. Windows, rain and thoughts of previous lovers all make for interesting reading in her work. But we’re most interested in how she loops back to her memory of the rainy day, and how the narrative voice would much prefer to drink a cup of tea than catch a cold in the bitter rain. And we certainly don’t blame her. Kissing in the rain may not be for everyone. If you enjoyed Loulou’s work why not leave a like or a comment below? It’s very much appreciated!

Featured Image CC // Daniel Stark

 

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