When The Rain Ends
A Prose Poem
Nights the rain is relentless are my favorite.
The chill deposited in the bones accentuates my loneliness without mercy.
The warm blanket is a sky without its moon. My head presses into the pillow that hardens against my dreams. Tears trickle, softening the stuffing again, so that my dreams can sleep. The rain continued to rattle against my soul, its windows wet from the hollowness…