Museum of Rain

The rain starts                with the patience

Slowly of                    someone who

unfolds a letter.

One drop                     then another

Shortly after               the entire afternoon

is covered                    in message

Trees are                   the first to read

the leaves               of their trees turn

after page                    towards the

darkening sky.

A dog is sitting                under a porch

The ears are                 directed towards

a tongue older than thunder.

The streets were filled        by the time night fell

are like rain

Shined with the relics            of previous times

The rain has collected

everything                        the tire

tracks                          the ash

of a cigarette.

forgotten                    and scratched

The concrete is now wet       and goes along with it

On the other hand,            tomorrow the sun will

come                       but for now

the world is.

Collins C. Opareaocha

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Collins.C.Opareaocha is a writer and poet. He lives and writes in Turkey.

His work has appeared or forthcoming in Empyrean literary magazine, Abstract Magazine, Dualiterary Magazine, Academy of Heart. Pretzel Bites Literary, The Leafline Magazine and elsewhere.