Rain


Rain.
God-forsaken,
bleak,
bleary,
rain,
befogging the air
as thoughts of you
befog my mind.
Harder it comes,
wind-driven,
thick,
viscous drops,
splattering against my face,
stinging me with their insolent,
uncaring,
selfish manner,
much as you,
in your self-contained,
self-preserving,
self-centered world,
denies all but that
which is an achievement for self;
denies me,
after my being fulfilled your need;
denies that which I gave freely,
driving it pain-riddled
into the depths of my soul.



W. James Beard, Jr.