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Posted: 10 Jul 2021

Taken: 09 Jul 2021

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Claribel Alegría •
Poets.Org •
Image •
Okrmos •
Michigan •
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Sycamore •

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Rain

Rain
As the falling rain trickles among the stones
memories come bubbling out.
It's as if the rain had pierced my temples.
Streaming streaming chaotically come memories:
the reedy voice of the servant telling me tales of ghosts.
They sat beside me the ghosts and the bed creaked
that purple-dark afternoon when I learned you were leaving forever,
a gleaming pebble from constant rubbing becomes a comet.
Rain is falling falling and memories keep flooding by
they show me a senseless world a voracious
world--abyss ambush whirlwind spur
but I keep loving it because I do
because of my five senses
because of my amazement
because every morning,
because forever, I have loved it
without knowing why.

~ Claribel Alegría - 1924-2018

Erhard Bernstein, Edna Edenkoben, Denis Croissant have particularly liked this photo

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