Annie Johnson

Annie Johnson

Rainy-day Windows

Rainy-day windows Whisper in lonely sighs And raindrops running down Clammy ashen panes Speaking a language Watery and ancient; A dampness that draws Loneliness to the surface Of rain-streaked glass With some drops racing To the bottom of the pane While others barely crawl Like lazy snails On a Sunday outing. Rainy-day windows Weary the spirit And weigh on the soul Like half-remembered sin Ashamed to be recalled, Reluctant to be exposed By dreary secret thoughts Brought on by a gray day And staring at rain drops Running down the window.

Annie Johnson