Morning Rain

Standard

​the pitter patter 

against my window pane

is like a present spirit         


awakened by its sweet scent 

aromas rise from the concrete 

the Bronx smells differently

    

the rhythm of this rain

speaks a special language

the heart understands

    

through adjectives and metaphors

and varying intonations 

I inhale this morning’s poem

rain falls consistently

weightless and sure 

my day begins. 

           

©2016 Liza Morales

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2 thoughts on “Morning Rain

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