Categories
Poetry

Rain on April Grasses

April 2018.

Rain on April Grasses

I can listen to my heartbeat and know that I’m weak.

(The Earth of the meek.

Your hand on my cheek.)

Maybe you’re right and I should grow out my hair.

(Way down to there.

Would anyone care?)

The sound of the rain and the clouds in my ears.

(I’ve been here for years.

Let me know when it clears.)

I’ll read a new book, or I’ll take a long walk.

(I can’t stay and talk.

My name is in chalk.)

By Ella

I am an undergraduate junior studying creative writing. I am interested in short fiction, poetry, creative nonfiction and professional writing.

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