Rain

I love the rain. This poem was written in a cafe in Kolkata (formerly known as Calcutta).

Rain drizzles down the city,
It refuses to go away.
Just like an old lover,
That refuses to say goodbye.

Even when things are over, it hangs on stubbornly.
The monsoon had ended,
Yet the rain still remains.

Ever presenting itself.
Seeping into every hole.
Soaking everything in its path –

Slowly sinking in.
Its cold wet touch.
Drizzle continues for days,
Skies dark and gray.

An eerie coldness hovers above.
Colder in the nights.
Stone cold heights.

Author's Note

Photo by Christiane Michaund (http://www.flickr.com/photos/misccha/).

Reviews

[TheodoreBlack]

Love the opening line 'Rain drizzles down the city', conjures many images... the rain running down the buildings; rain running down the streets and the city itself being run down by the rain.

This lingering sense of something that refuses to go is nicely captured. And this sense that it might return at the end of the write.

Love the final rhyme. 'Colder in the nights, Stone cold heights'.

[Charlie [away]]

Beautiful imagery. Rain is one of those things I am normally picky about, but you did a good job with it here. Fun piece.

I think in the second stanza, it might be "the monsoon HAS ended". I could be wrong, however (I don't have the best sense of what is grammatically correct).

Last stanza was great. 5 stars!

[Beulah]

Very graphic and visual... wants me just grab a sweater and cup of hot chocolate and stare dreamily through the rain streaked window...

Great poetry!