Amongst the tipping rain

Amongst the tipping rain
I saw an arrow falling

And it was lost in the rain
And fell into a pool

The 1950s house would not stand still
Until I drew flowers in the garden

The house was drawn with crayons
By a child of distant memory

It’s strange how some memories endure
Like mirrors in the sky

The ringdove that sat on the roof
Had the cloud wrapped around it

One of the women was looking at something
The other woman looked ambivalent

They were drawn carefully with a light touch
They do not seem to know me

Author: blackbird212012

I am interested in multimedia work: songwriting, art, and creative writing. I have been involved also in theatre and music performances.

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