for Elaine

The cloud that squats on the horizon
Throws down a grey finger of rain
That brushes the treetops.
When it reaches here,
I’ll remember the day
We sat before the glass,
Watched it drip from leaf to leaf,
Clustering along branches,
Lines of pearls waiting
For wind to set them free.
If I could collect them in my hand,
Transfigure them,
They would all be yours.
I am no wizard,
Have only these few words to show,
Which, though poor, are all I have.

And they are yours.


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3 Responses to “Pearls”

  1. redgladiola Says:

    So beautiful. I don’t normally like the rain so much, but I do in this poem. =)

  2. Elan Mudrow Says:

    Nice writing! I enjoyed your stuff. Thanks!
    check out:

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