-- The Color of Rain --
John Herlihy
The blue sky is not always blue;
The sky often shines the color of rain.
Those bone-gray pillow clouds gather anew,
Hanging low overhead, shadowing the plain.
The color of rain seeps under the skin;
My mood wrapped in its enshrouding curtain.
The day proceeds in this atmosphere grim,
A day for missing, losing, doubting, nothing certain.
The rain everywhere in the trees, dripping from leaves,
The stones shining and wet as if dripping tears.
The landscape seems forlorn, even the sky grieves,
The color of rain everywhere, reflecting our fears.
So much of the world likes under the cover of night,
But not here, the grey skies still offer daylight.
Other days reflect the blue of heavenly skies,
But today, the sky overhead reflects the color of rain.
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Copyright © John Herlihy
Tuesday 26 January 2021
Rebecca