Anna Yang

Rain

Flecks on the pavement,
Patterns—
Never could be regular
Even if they tried their hardest.

Their icy tears form on branches like
Glass beads on a necklace,
Blurring hard edges and
Sharp lines.

White noise
Swallows all surroundings,
Just a steady drumming as each
Drop touches down.

I close my eyes and feel
Nothing.
As it all
Falls
Away.




[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2013 EDITION]


Copyright © 2002-2011 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose © 2002-2011 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission.