here are the first and last stanzas from another recent poem, “praying for drought”, that I imagined on 1 March with the line “he builds a nest in the rain”; it wouldn’t leave me alone during March or July, and has agonizingly finalized itself:
I don’t think god cared I kept my absent parent fears locked
inside my diary
hidden in my closet, because
god didn’t speak up
and rain came
most every afternoon
it tried to drown my ivy
I don’t remember when
the rain
stopped
I don’t want to remember
the rain
© 2 August 2019
Cindy B. Stevens
#rain #fear #roots #AmWriting #BeWriting #BookLove #Bookworm #Dream #IGpoet #IGpoetry #IloveWriting #Inspiration #LoveWriting #Poet #PoetLife #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetryLover #Reading #Write #WriterLife #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #WritersNetwork #WritersOfIG #WritersOfInstagram #Writing #Wordsmith #AmEditing #NC
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