The continuous pitter patter of rain on the windows, on the deck, and on the leaves, when you open the front door to grab the mail from the mail box, makes me so nostalgic for another time, and another place.
Under the densely green trees along the street
turn the engine off, and let the car sit idle.
Raise the windows up, and close your eyes
and now hear the rhythm of the falling rain
on the roof of the car.
Wind, like drenched bodies, skids
off the branches,
your fingers tap, to the water’s song
slipping and sliding along the windshield;
Some letters, some haunting lines from the past
come to mind
in this Monsoon Symphony!
© ZSA June 26 2015.
For almost an hour and half last night, we were left without any power in the house. I got the candles out, and set them in different bowls and containers that Sandra (Bianchi Street) had sent me. While it looked good, I realized how bored I was. I couldn’t do anything. Read, write, watch a show, or talk on the phone. (yes, the phones were dead too.) Then I remembered the times when we didn’t have electricity at home, in the early and mid forties. The domestic help would go around lighting all the various lamps and chandeliers, and there would be such brilliance of light. We did our reading and writing and playing and talking, and being a family together. How different those days were. How far I have come from there, and how helpless I feel when power goes off for a small period of time!
Have a great weekend my friends.