Wind causes the palm trees to lash my window. I hear it like little fingers; they tap on the glass, “Hello.” They say. “Hello.” Bars of orange light filter through my blinds and shine like garish sunlight on my upturned face.
I listen.
“It’s coming,” the fingers say. “It’s coming.” And I wait. My ears strain for the telltale sounds, the lighter, smoother tapping. It’s like the children have gone away and moonlight herself is tapping at my window. But she’s not there yet.
From other rooms in my house, I hear nothing. I know that somewhere below, a talk show rambles. It’s the kind with the laugh track, I can hear it sometimes. But not tonight. All I hear tonight are the child-fingers.
And then, for a moment, the tap-tapping stops, like the sky has taken a breath, its run out of air. I know that when this mighty breath is expelled, it will bring with it something cooler. Something not unlike a symphony.
I wait.
Then I hear it. Just once. The soft, cool sound of water against glass. Another follows, I know, but for a moment the palm tapping has come back and I cant hear it. For a moment, I lay there, staring at the orange stripes on my ceiling. It’s late, I know, but I have to wait, it will be just a moment now, just a moment.
A second drop follows the first, a second of the sky’s perfect tears. Slowly I sit, pushing the heavy covers off my legs, relishing in the cold. It’s not at all biting, not at all like the rabid dogs poems make it out to be. Cold is made of something softer. Like dew on the roses I wish I had in my garden, or clouds in the night sky.
I open the window over my bed, it creaks, I know just when, but I open it all the way. Just a moment now, just a moment.
They start to fall through the screen, drop after drop, spattering my face. I wish I could taste them, whish I could catch each one of them, but they fall, turning the sidewalk grey and my blankets spotted with dark drops.
It seems like such a waste that I’m the only one who’s documenting their short lives. That I am the only person to watch the rain.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
6 comments:
kit, you are such a wonderful writer. i really love this peice that you have written, partly because i love the rain as well. I really dont know what to say other than well done, well done.
Kit, this was soooooooooo awesome. More awesome than the COB concert (except...you know what I'm talking about). I love the way you personalize (er what ever it's called when you give inanimate things human traits.)But you took it to another level when you actually gave the trees voices, so they were human. You really do that well, especially the paragraph about the sky breathing. OH! It's personification. So, you're personifications the best part of the whole page. I knew you liked the rain but this really makes it obvious that you are in love with it, and realy wish it rained more often. You make the rain seem rare and beautiful thing (I guess it is in San Diego), I really loved that. I don't know what other to say besides 'this is really good'. I'm a bit jealous myself.
Kudos!
(Laura van de von la Mitchell of Essex)
Thanks for directing me to this Kit. For most of it I had no idea what you were describing but by the end I figured it out.
Garish is a great adjective and perfectly describes the feeling of being awakened by sunlight or anything esle for that matter. The anticipation that you invoke is another highlight for me, waiting for something you enjoy is a pleasure in itself.
Mr. J
Hey Kit! I read this before you posted it so I knew that this was great. I really liked this. Also it is ranining tonight. But I was wondering if you would read my writing and comment on it, I really want you to edit it tell me if you like it or not. I really want your opinon on it. Thanks!
Austin
Sorry I didnt tell you what I wanted you to read. I want you to read "What I Like...". If you cant its fine, but I would really like it if you did read it. See you tomorrow
Austin
I really like it when you said "this mighty breath is expelled..." Expelled, this is a really good word, I like this word because it has more than one meaning. It can be banished, shooed away but it can also mean let out. The way you phrase words are great.
Post a Comment