Tuesday, September 12, 2017

On the Windowpane -- dVerse/rain

On the Windowpane

rain on the windowpane           distorts the view           an abstract scene

the drips run down                   cut vertical channels     into the wet pane

image seems to wiggle              and quiver                   just a bit out of focus              

i see you crossing the street       hopping over puddles  backpack on your back           


 carrying your books                home from school        study by candle light

the rain continues       pitter patter on the roof            i am reminded of the dry season

we longed for rain                    just a few drops            upon the dry and dusty earth

brown as far as you could see      in the desert              just a few drops will do

wildflowers burst into bloom       shoots of wild grass              sprout from the ground

humans can live       only four days without water        we see pictures of hurricane victims

surrounded by water                drowning in water                    fleeing from water

water is necessary                     we have little                everyone needs water

in the past                we have been careless in our use              it is no longer so

September 12, 2017                            


brudberg said...

I will always remember the sight of the desert in bloom.... water is so precious in arid land

lillianthehomepoet.wordpress.com said...

Argh....my computer froze so I lost my comment here.
I love how you've described the rain on the window pane....I could just see this and me looking out the blurred window watching the school bus pull up. Wonderfully detailed imagery.
Water is a precious commodity -- even for those surrounded by tainted, dirty water now from the hurricane...they may have it all around them but it is not life giving for them. I'm reminded of Bermuda where rain water is the only source of water for people...they have specially painted ridged roofs that drain the water through a pipe into a cistern below their home...they drink with it, wash with it etc. So to them, rain water is like gold. And from our times there, I've developed the habit of washing my hands by turning on the facet to get wet; turning it off while I lather up and wash; then turning it on to rinse. :)

Alison H said...

I like this very much, it has so many scattered images. We do watch others, I like the "i see you crossing the street hopping over puddles backpack on your back carrying your books home from school - we had really bad floods in 2007 (in NZ), and it was summertime so very warm...the children didn't care, they were swimming in the road outside school....I liked your poem.

Toni Spencer said...

We had a dry summer - and now it is beginning to rain outside, nice gentle taps. I loved how you described the rain on the window panes.

Nosaint said...

I like the part about the abstract scene through the window, backpack on your back- nicely done!

Sherry Blue Sky said...

So swift, the change from too hot and dry, to rain and a changing season. I welcome it.

De said...

I like the flow of this, the white space providing a place for slivers of water to slide down this poem-pane.

Frank Hubeny said...

There seems to be either too much or too little water. We can't be careless about our lack or surplus.

indybev said...

Your poems drift ... like idle thoughts sitting on a porch swing!

Martin Kloess said...

This poem reads so different through the windows of SF. Strill sterling.

Kim Russell said...

I love the way you've distorted an ordinary, everyday scene through the rainy windowpane into individual splinters of glass, Annell.
I love the line:
'the drips run down cut vertical channels into the wet pane'
and the way the perspective switches from inside looking out to outside looking in, in the line:
'carrying your books home from school study by candle light'
and then back to the past and other places.
A rain-filled stream of consciousness. :)

Sarah Russell said...

Isn't it amazing when, with just a little rain, the wild flowers bloom? It truly reminds us, as your poem does, of how vital water is to our existence. With you, I worry for the folks coming home after the hurricanes to too much water, and none to drink.