The rain comes again as if we were a secret

forest fires nearby

smoke and ash everywhere

silence in the gray sky


The rain comes again as if we were a secret, you and I.

Snuggle down with me, my dear, on the beaten old sofa,

And we will sip tea and listen to the rain fall on the roof.


The tail end of the afternoon, resting in the shade. The cicadas boldly announce that evening is on the way. Preach, my little friends.


"...silence fell

Deep in his soul, like rain upon a soil

Worn by the solstice fierce, and made it pure."

-William Butler Yeats

"When all is said and done, mindfulness is really about wisdom, about discerning what is really, really, really, true from what is mere appearance, or what you’re attached to because you want it to be true."
—Jon Kabat-Zinn 

"We were on the roof of America and all we could do was yell."

-Jack Kerouac

Poetry Blog Digest 2020, Week 42

"I don't get no respect. I told my psychiatrist that everyone hates me. He said I was being ridiculous - everyone hasn't met me yet." 

-Rodney Dangerfield

[th(e)reat] → siege engine, a poem by Trace Howard DePass

"May your day contain kindness, love, and peace. May you be safe."


My Patreon patron's page. Every little bit helps. Thanks! -Jobe