The Storm Inside

The rain fills the windows up to my ears
As if it doesn’t want me to hear him say it,

Again. I am so sorry, baby, I am so sorry.

I turn my head and blow into his ear
With the breath of these last fall drops,

Filling his head with cool wisps of what

Will someday turn into beautiful, crisp flakes,
Ignoring the fist at our window that

Does not care about the word sorry.

 
A word turning the trees into the walk
Of an old man, not because they cannot

Stand the rain, but because they have

Grown stooped, used to the pounding
Weight of its constant, heavy drops.

And for that, I too, am sorry.

I close the blinds, pull his dark
Curls onto my stomach, and wait for

The rain to fill me up to my eyes.

Rosa Canales is a recent graduate of Denison University. Her work has appeared in Capsule Stories, Lammergeier, perhappened mag, and the Sigma Tau Delta Review.

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.