Original EveryPoem Studio house-voice poem.
Choose a genuine response. Counts appear only after several readers agree.
It's raining again and I have nowhere to be angry about it.
All night the rain keeps the ledger, counting each roof tile twice, tapping the gutter for answers,
Rain needles the visor until every headlight flowers. The lane line disappears,
On scan day, rain begins before the alarm. The forecast calls it ordinary:
A blue bowl waits on the table, patient as a patch of sky. It has held pears, keys,
Because the bus was late, I watched an old man split an orange and give the brighter half
Reader conversation
No approved comments yet. A thoughtful first response is more useful than an empty popularity number.