When Will It Rain Poem by James McLain

When Will It Rain.
Your face I touch, it is hot and dry.
Warm and never moist deep, down inside.
Clouds that cover dawn a window pain each
weeping view, my finger drew and knew.

When will it rain, let it come down, let it rain
I can not continue, tree's their rings around
the barrel and dew drops, when you stop by.

When will it rain, the air is moody like her smile.
Each cloudy day, each face is Grey.
The dust it fills each cup, outside until it's full.

And when it does and when it comes and the dust
on window pane, how it runs like cheap mascara,
down that face, that never knew her touch of glass.