Rain. Forlorn, and dreary sound-
Beating on the pane-
To cause my mind to hasten to...
What ne’er can be again.
Ah, how I used to like the rain-
And all inclement weather...
Which then brought joy, instead of pain
For we were there together.
Where? I wonder where you are-
On this cold winter night?
And is it stormng there, my dear-
And do you cringe in fright?
Oh, rainy night, or dismal day-
Without you they’re the same...
And endless flood of loneliness-
An arid waste of pain.
(Bessemer, AL, 01/09/2000)