Droplets pour on the sidewalk uncontrollably directed by the wind. Trees shake while the wind whistles. Drawing more attention than the rest is the falling rain. Without a breath it takes on a life of its own. Each hit different from the last. Nothing else feels to exist in that moment. Reminiscent of notes to a faded memory. There is no holding onto it as it slips away. What is left is a hand that will dry with time. As fleeting as those droplets are, there will be plenty. Continuing to fall.
Categories:
Nothing but the Rain
Donate to The Chomp
Your donation will support the student journalists of Gateway Regional High School. Your contribution will allow us to purchase equipment and cover our annual website hosting costs.
More to Discover
About the Contributor
Gavin Kinsella, Creative Writer
Poems are some of my favorite ways to write as they can be simple but invoke a lot of meaning. Writing mini stories in poems creates something people can derive their own meaning from, which is why fictional writing is so cool.
Ace Smith • Mar 21, 2025 at 11:05 am
Beautifully written, Gavin! Your word choice is very purposeful to create a detailed mood, thank you for sharing.