The rain is flowing
from the fallen glass of heaven
a formless waterfall
opaque and alive
in the peaceful, weeping
skies of memory
clouds drift low within the mist
so quiet is the rain
it sings a song so unique
that it recalls a voice once lost
beyond the silken shores of night
the warmth of wanting
remembering
where dreams soar
and our love is lingering
in the cold grey sky
out of place and time
once more
© Ann Bagnall
2015
Annie's Poetry 