weeping through the panes
it's raining outside
i felt it before i heard it
in
aching joints and muscles
window frame
do you feel it too
at your mitered corners?
are you weeping
through the panes?
I hear the cracking
tapping
and see
the water dripping
pooling
dirges
hymns mourn
in
staccato drops
of
September's death
at the end
melancholy
seems
most heavy
when
it
rains
Poetry by Kathy Lockhart
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Written on 2016-09-30 at 19:58
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