Downpour: a poem


Staff Writer
He wishes for the sunlight
To wash over his wrinkled skin
His shiny silk threads
Tell the story of seventy years
Yet the sky turns grey
Rain pours from the heavens
He looks from beneath the awning
Out at the merciless downpour
People pass him, hurrying
Without sparing him a glance
Their worlds within their umbrellas
No one gives him a chance
The long flow of life
Has left him with precious diamonds
Yet his words fall upon deaf ears
And his lips are left quivering
So the wise man sits in silence,
His words drowned by the rain