Through the window

Rain falling on tin roofs

I spoke to you the other day and told you how it was raining.

Sometimes I’m unsure, sometimes I believe it could all be in my head

The drops I hear falling on the tin roof instead merely a series of impulse charges running through my brain.

What would the people say if they knew?


2 Responses to Impulse

  1. balladeer says:

    Interesting stuff over here! I like your off-kilter visual style. And thanks for the kind words about my Vietnamese mythology page.

  2. Nice blog you have here. I like this poem and the photo. Happy blogging.

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