by Melinda Ham 


Rivulets of rain

Run down my window pane

Like a beaded curtain

 

We escape outside

But still we try to hide

Inside our tortoise shells

 

Timidly we blush

As our umbrellas brush

We embrace and depart

 

He left without a trace

Now he’s just another face

In my beaded curtain

 

written in response to exercise 25