It was a heavy evening
Full of the promise of violence,
Yet I went out.
Climbed up the steep driveway to the castle,
Down into the moat
Where the wind held its breath.
The blackbird was silent as I waded through treacle,
with an electric current.
The sickly sweet smell teased my nostrils,
A sugar-coating of things to come.
I risked a glance upwards.
Thick clouds rolled in and blanketed the sky.
I sped up.
What's a light smattering of rain?
But these clouds
Past the wall of primroses I stomped.
Clumps of cow parsley,
Nodding at a fellow solitary walker
from a safe distance.
Passing the thick stalks of hogweed,
Chewing the name around in my mouth.
I felt the first stealthy drops
touch my cheeks.
Light fingers, tentative at first,
Multiplying into rice crispie rain.
Its lightness lulled me
Like a stroke before a
I strode under the front porch
As the heavens fell behind me.
Just in time.
One thought on “Rice crispie rain and a promise of violence”
Fantastic poem. Brought back wonderful memories. X
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