A poem by JENNA HAM.
These drops beat on the floor of my mind,
in sparkly whirlpool chimes.
It’s part imagined and part experienced:
this glittery sensation of hām.
The whole day has been a space in time,
as the tick-tock of the clock is
in rainfall, and tyres beat the ground relentlessly.
I can’t tell whether it’s day or night,
summer or spring,
April or November.
Today is faceless in the rain,
and so am I.
Blot it out of the calendars!
It’s too rainy a day to be today.
Featured Image courtesy of Jenna Ham.