5/5 rainier

5/5:
topic given- 'start a project that will take two weeks, (eg. a narrative poem, 125+ lines)'

note: this is the sequel to rainy, the narrative poem i wrote in january. i would suggest reading it before reading this, as there is quite a few references to it. aka, this is the same poem, from the lovely boy's point of view. any feedback would be appreciated. enjoy :)



rainier.
by jaclyn iaquinta.

On this morning in April,
When n’one expects a thing,
He sits alone in silence
Upon the rain-dropped swing.

His toes caress the sandbox,
The sand between his toes,
Mind wandering to elsewhere,
Thoughts no one cares to know.

This morning was the last straw,
Dad finally walked out.
Today will be the ending
Of eighteen years of doubt.

The fighting and the yelling
Throughout the past few years,
Life filled with expectations
That end in many tears.

The rain starts falling harder
(Things just weren’t bad enough?).
Rain always makes him angry,
But life’s already tough.

He’s waited for too long now.
He’s sure of his own choice.
He’s got his gun in pocket,
Ready to end his voice.

He walks three blocks up Lincoln.
The bus stop isn’t far,
But water flies upon him
Splashed from the passing car.

He wonders what he’s done to
Deserve all that he’s faced.
He wants to end it sooner
So he quickens his pace.

His mom was always tipsy,
Never ceasing to fight;
And dad would become violent
When day turned into night.

As his parents’ only child
He couldn’t do more wrong,
Live up to what they hope for
Or disappoint ‘fore long.

The plan is set in stone now.
He doubts himself no more.
This act will make them notice
What they’d always ignored.

He left home early morning.
He’ll take bus two- oh- eight.
It leaves at seven thirty.
All he can do is wait.

He’ll take it two towns over.
He’ll step onto the street.
He’ll wander to the river
Where gun and head shall meet.

He hates that rain is falling
On this most fateful day.
The streets are shining silver,
The clouds their darkest gray.

Upon reaching the bus stop,
He sits upon the bench
Beneath the plastic shelter
Watching all else get drenched.

Just then as he is sitting
In sadness and despair,
His thoughts are interrupted-
A warm breeze in the air.

He looks across the blacktop,
His heart skipping a beat,
He swears it is an angel,
Yellow boots on her feet.

She steps off of the sidewalk.
She’s seeming to come near.
He thinks he must be dreaming,
Assumes she’ll disappear.

But she continues walking,
Approaching only he.
She has a skip in her step
As if she’s finally free.

She’s standing just before him.
She offers him her hand.
He takes it without thinking,
She seems to understand.

He wonders what he’s done to
Deserve this girl who’s come,
It seems like she could save him
From what he may become.

They walk along in silence.
He holds tight to her palm.
He looks upon her soft cheek,
And instantly feels calm.

She asks, “Where did you come from?”
Her lips forming the phrase.
He thinks how to avoid it
But can’t find any ways.

He claims it doesn’t matter
While thinking otherwise-
His parents and his sadness
Have lead to his demise.

She poses other questions.
She cares ‘bout who he is.
He answers her with honor.
The thoughts are truly his.

The rain persists in pouring.
It seems that plans have changed.
They treasure every moment,
A time that fate arranged.

He turns to face her fully,
Her beauty burns his soul,
His body fills with gladness,
His heart finally whole.

A tear rolls past her smile,
This day being too much.
He wipes away the water
Dissolving with his touch.

He brings her to his body,
Holds her with all his might.
Too soon to know for sure but,
It couldn’t feel more right.

The rain starts falling slower,
Forgotten though it was,
He questions her with, “Why me?”
Her lone reply, “Because.”

He thought the rain had stopped it
From coming round the bend,
But the bus comes into view
As the rain comes to an end.

He helps her up its high steps,
Relieving all his strife,
A simple word of kindness.
The girl who saved his life.