My Father’s Rain



Make the rain

touch his soul.

Water down

the anger.


Thunder booms

in the skies

where the dark

filters out

any light.


Falling drops

find his heart.

Simmer down

the monster.


*I had a dream about my dad last night. I can’t remember the particulars. I just remember he was there. My father had anger issues, but when he told his jokes and laughed, the clouds would clear, and it would be warm again.

(Photo by