Rain

Rating: 5.0

I love all films that start with rain:
rain, braiding a windowpane
or darkening a hung-out dress
or streaming down her upturned face;

one big thundering downpour
right through the empty script and score
before the act, before the blame,
before the lens pulls through the frame

to where the woman sits alone
beside a silent telephone
or the dress lies ruined on the grass
or the girl walks off the overpass,

and all things flow out from that source
along their fatal watercourse.
However bad or overlong
such a film can do no wrong,

so when his native twang shows through
or when the boom dips into view
or when her speech starts to betray
its adaptation from the play,

I think to when we opened cold
on a starlit gutter, running gold
with the neon drugstore sign
and I'd read into its blazing line:

forget the ink, the milk, the blood—
all was washed clean with the flood
we rose up from the falling waters
the fallen rain's own sons and daughters

and none of this, none of this matters.

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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Bernard F. Asuncion 19 March 2020

A well crafted composition....10+++ Please read my new poem ONLY NICE POEM. Thanks.

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Dr Antony Theodore 16 March 2020

forget the ink, the milk, the blood— all was washed clean with the flood we rose up from the falling waters the fallen rain's own sons and daughters and none of this, none of this matters. you shall not be pessimistic and fatalistic. rain and its wonders. it clears out everything. tony

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Richard Ponsonby 16 March 2020

No, I believe it does matter and this is a good poem, well done Don Paterson

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Tim Brown 19 January 2019

So evocative although it would help if the audio version could read “dips“ instead of “d.i.p.s“

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Kumarmani Mahakul 12 January 2018

Film starting with rain carries natural essence and wonderful perception is expressed in this brilliantly penned poem...10

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