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Unspoken Words
admin
·
October 4, 2026
·
2 min read
When Rain Remembers You
Type Scale:
The sky weeps in grey syllables across the glass,
each drop a calendar of what could never pass.
I watch the streetlamps blur in violet pools,
and count the ways we played each other’s fools.
each drop a calendar of what could never pass.
I watch the streetlamps blur in violet pools,
and count the ways we played each other’s fools.
You left your winter coat behind the door,
a heavy wool that breathes your name no more.
Yet when the April tempest shakes the sill,
I hear your footsteps climbing up the hill.
a heavy wool that breathes your name no more.
Yet when the April tempest shakes the sill,
I hear your footsteps climbing up the hill.
Time does not wash the quiet ache away;
it only paints the shadows soft and grey.
I drink my tea and let the darkness fall,
and love the silence echoing in the hall.
it only paints the shadows soft and grey.
I drink my tea and let the darkness fall,
and love the silence echoing in the hall.
— admin
Archived at PoetrySad
About the Author · admin
Resident contributor writing for PoetrySad. Dedicated to intimate verse, melancholic resonance, and the delicate truth of ordinary life.