Glen Hope, PA USA
It Rained in California
It rained the day I left California,
large, wet drops to mirror
the tears in my eyes.
I packed my bags carefully,
checking out of room #2007,
where we spent three wonderful days
basking in the glow of our love.
You departed the night before,
leaving me to spend a restless night
in a bed we had shared.
My arms suddenly seemed empty
without you too fill them.
You, my sun, gone
leaving me to face the storm alone.
The cab driver, that took me to the airport,
laughed when he saw the fat
drops falling on the windshield.
“That’s one thing we don’t have
to deal with here, “ he said.
His amazement showed
as he watched the showers
cloud his view,
but he didn’t notice the ones
that fell from my eyes in rivers.
They say, “It never rains in California,”
but that day, it poured.
Alis volat propriis
(She flies with her own wings)