dripping in the night
after bedtime
water drips from the
cedar onto the roof
rolls into the gutter,
the plunks a consolation
to my desiccated heart.
blessed rain!
thirty-three years lived
off and on in California—
now, in one June downfall,
almost an inch?
I long to stay awake
soak in the rare and
fleeting melody, a denser
song on the shingles
hollow in the pipes
the rainfall, the cedar,
the shingled roof—
my very own self and
the friend in another guise
2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—they may never turn into anything more or they might flower.
the heart of the matter 
Lovely, Skye🌷 I felt much the same listening to the comforting plops & drips. Rain filtered through Redwoods & Bay trees. I laid carefully on a shared double bed at the Family Reunion. ❤️ Sent from my iPad
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