Tuesday, October 4, 2011

My Face Turns Up


My face turns toward the rain.
Drops plays on my skin, dribble
into my mouth, drum a steady
beat on my skin, and hang
like crystals from my eyelashes.
My clothes are drenched, weighted.
Nearby dahlias dance in the shower.
There is no better remedy, nothing more
liberating,  than the glorious rain
and me caught without an umbrella.

10 comments:

Lynne said...

Oh Judy, I really love this poem! You express how I feel, and isn't it wonderful to be without an umbrella!

Ann said...

Diane would be tickled that her mantra and the metaphor it represents keeps coming back yo us, Judy.

Judy Roney said...

Yes, I doubt that any of us will think of the word umbrella and not think of her.

Shersim said...

Caught without an umbrella . . . and what a wonderful thing that can be. Delightful!

Laurie Kolp said...

Judy- I have an award for you on my wordpress blog:

http://lkkolp.wordpress.com/awards/

Willow said...

Excellent "No Umbrella" poem, Judy.

Mary said...

Terrific, Judy!

Laura Maria said...

Such a beautiful poem. I especially loved the ending.

Buddha3074 said...

Very refreshing poem about the simplicity and wonder of being caught in the rain, nice!

gautami tripathy said...

I love rains!

cellent write!