The night the trickle started
was the beginning of his undoing.
Stooping to unlace, the first dropp fell
soaking, numbing his fingers.
Fumbling, he finally separated
foot from shoe, as mizzlers coursed
continuously from his fringe. Through
a proscenium arch he wathed himself
dance the rain dance and wondered.
Laces snaking from his shoes, burrowed
into ground, sopping guy ropes
slipping, aided by tears dropping
from eyelashes and sky, His vision blurred
for an instant and the earth sucked dry
his sappy juice, for the roots buried beneath.
Stepping sideways from his shoes, he left the
puddle to one side and stood under the sun.
Watching the rain flood upon his right,
he basked in the rays, until blinded by purple
the deluge began. He welcomed the
whishlers as they bounced from his sight
beating upon drum skin, spraying violet,
as he danced the rain dance.
She watched through the window
as droplets coursed their routes through
dust and dirt, streaking mascara black
into rivulets, gathering momentum
as they neared the bottom and pooled upon
the sill. Expanding into lakes, cascading
fountains now, the mizzlers jumped for joy
but dried before they touched the ground.
Staring straight ahead, squared neatly
within sides, she caught a glimpse of light
from the east. Rosy pink hues
blushed inton puddles lending an airy view
through soot-filled lashes, rising from
blue to violet, basking in the rays.
Blinded in an instant, arid eyelids widened.
She opened the window and stepped forward
onto the foot of the rainbow and danced
the rain dance.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem