1/27 rainy

1/27:
topic- write a narrative poem (100+ lines) that tells a story.



On this morning in April
When n’one expects a thing,
She leaves her house in Charlotte
On this Friday in Spring.

She walks out her front doorway,
‘Round corners, three streets down,
Two blocks and fifteen quick steps,
The only stop in town.

She runs to catch the first bus,
The rain catches her first,
Big droplets falling ‘round her,
The clouds above her burst.

She hurries to her own home
Safe in its warm embrace.
She searches in the closets.
Her clothes she will replace.

Hidden amongst the garments,
Bright yellow caps and shoes,
A plastic yellow jacket,
A clear umbrella too.

She ventures out one more time,
More ready than the last.
She hangs her head below her-
The bus’s time has passed.

She looks up at the gray sky,
The rain making her blink,
This walk to where she’s going,
Will give her time to think.

She wishes she had someone
To call only her own,
‘Cause in this rainy weather
She’s feeling so alone.

Now, just as luck would have it,
As rain soaks through her hair,
Her thoughts are interrupted-
A warm breeze in the air.

She looks across the blacktop,
A boy catches her eye.
He’s waiting at the bus stop
Attempting to keep dry.

She walks across that blacktop.
He knows not that it’s passed.
The bus will not be coming.
The rain’s falling so fast.

He too looks just as lonely.
She offers him her hand.
He takes it without thinking,
He seems to understand.

They walk along in silence,
Delaying the first glance,
Wondering if their meeting
Was fate or merely chance.

Each has so many questions.
All will remain unsaid.
The heart comes up with answers,
Debated by the head.

The rain is falling steadily,
To him, her hand feels warm.
It’s cold outside, but she is
The light within the storm.

Their faces face the sidewalk.
She is the first to speak.
She asks, “Where did you come from?”
A blush graces her cheek.

He thinks for many moments
‘fore answering her plea.
He says, “That’s not what matters.
I think you would agree.”

She nods her head and smiles.
She understands him well.
“Then who are you,” she asks him,
“If you would care to tell?”

“I’m shy and I am stubborn,
I’m clumsy, but I’m smart,
I’m honest and I’m willing
To share with you my heart.”

The rain persists in pouring,
But no more cold is felt.
Her tears copy the raindrops
As if her eyes might melt.

He turns to face her fully.
He wipes away her tears.
His eyes are kind and loving,
And wise beyond his years.

She hurries into his arms,
Safe in his warm embrace.
Her head rests on his shoulder.
The cold she will replace.

The sun peeks through the dark clouds,
The rain slows to an end,
The air gets warm and friendly,
The bus comes ‘round the bend.

He helps her up its high steps,
Hands clasped as they will stay,
He asks where she is going,
Her lone reply, “Away.”

He smiles as she answers,
The bus says its farewell,
She smiles as he whispers,
“I’m heading there as well.”