At Times When It Rains…

Drops fall from the clouded night sky,
Echoing through the window panes…
My breath fogging up the window,
At times when rains…


3 thoughts on “At Times When It Rains…

    1. I don’t know whether you are implying that it doesn’t rhyme, which it does, just not all of it because it’s only one paragraph long (I use the rhyming scheme ABCB in most of my poetry, this isn’t an exception). As to the interpretation and leading on, my literature teacher once told me,  “A poem isn’t the same as a story. It doesn’t tell you what happens, it shows you.” I imagine poetry as a painting, the title is like an empty canvas, painted with a color depicting the title (blue in this case). The first line paints the main features, the second adds to it, the third and fourth complete it. A person at night, standing with their face pressed against a window pane watching the rain fall outside. Once the picture is complete, it expresses a feeling and it’s your turn to think, to feel. Feelings are subjective and thus poetry is kind of subjective as well. 

      Poetry is different from every person’s point of view, it’s up to you to find the view and marvel at the sights as if you were atop a mountain, gazing down at the fog which enveloped you before you began your ascent towards the top of it. 

      I’m just rambling now, a nasty habit of mine. What I’m trying to say here is that I can’t really help you in a sense. I can tell you what it means to me but it doesn’t have to coincide with what you think of it.


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