Creations of the Rain

Rain in the city.
Grey sky. Dulled colors.
Now and again, the drizzle
turns to torrents.
It is hard to see past it.
You know what it is there.
You sit here each morning
drinking coffee and memorizing the landscape,
and yet, today it is
hard to see the hues you know are there.
You begin to imagine new hues,
darker, less real, creations of the rain.

About this poem

A reflective poem. Not necessarily in the moment.

One of the struggles for people with anxiety or(like me) depression, is that some days you have trouble sorting through what is real and what lies your mind tells you. It is a struggle to feel correctly. Or in my case, even know what you feel.

It is raining today.

The picture was taken from my train window on the way to New York City a while back.

From that mishmash, this poem,

Tom