As the early rain
makes its way down the window
it cleans away the grime
left by time’s passing
I peer in
and through it I see
another me
in another life
but soon those droplets
become a torrent
and blurs my view
between then and now
my mind plays tricks
on what I think I see
and what is
Memories are like that
In drops they are gentle and clear
but when they crash around you
drown you in images and emotion
it becomes too hard to tell
which is the memory
and what is only a wish
and it can leave you standing
looking through a dirty window
trying to remember
what it’s like outside
[bctt tweet=”DARK POETRY – ‘Memory Rain’ by Tina McFarlane @tina_mcfarlane #horror #horrorcommunity #darkpoetry #poetry #poet #writingcommunity” username=”theboldmom”]
