Poetry: Walking Rain
Mar 19th, 2007 by Jack Lhasa
An angel walks across the street
Her fingers move through my hair
but I can’t feel her
Angels don’t exist in my world
No god does intervene
There I am still on the street
but no angel next to me
An angel walks across the street
Her wingtips grace the ground
but she’s just walking rain to me
-Loki.
(This was actually for a college poetry class, several years ago.)
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