Poem: Let It Rain | Poetry | Hudson Valley | Chronogram Magazine

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Poem: Let It Rain


Trees are like songs
In the air, sighing,
A green blush
To evening sky.

Raindrops on the windows
Are already starting to melt.
The mourning dove
Coos lost love.

I am a held breath,
Face turned to beaten sky,
Dark and purpled.
I am the bowl.

I am the collector.
Let it rain
Liquid solitude,
Translucent at dusk.

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