November Rain by Annabel Howarth

November Rain

Umbrella, closed, in hand,

I stood in the therapy of November rain,

It pierced my repentant skin with devil's nails,

And rinsed the lines from my crumpled heart.

The circles of solitude spun in deep puddles,

Each drop suspended, untimely, before the fall,

It ran rings of memory around my past,

And quenched the thirst of my present anguish.

I felt alone on that spot,

Looked up at the black star filled sky,

Into the shower of darting lights,

Cascades closed the doors of my eyes.

When the emptiness was all washed out,

I shook the tears from my dripping hair,

And, smiling, with umbrella up,

Turned my back, forever, on that spot

.... and walked home.

by Annabel Howarth