Today at dVerse Poetics, Abrha is the bartender. He is from India and wishes us to write about monsoon. I have never experienced monsoon but have experienced the torrential sudden rains after a long, hot dry spell of summer. I am using my imagination for monsoon and weaving in some of the past. Come visit us at dVerse. Read some of the submissions for this very different prompt. Add one of your own!
“I love storms. Primordial. Every bit of civilization gone. Everything true coming out.” Vanessa Ives, Penny Dreadful
Hot. Smoldering hot.
The sky like molten bronze.
It is amazing the stones of the buildings do not explode in the heat
Or melt and run in the gutters.
Rain coming. Soon. Soon.
And then the first breath –
The rain begins and –
The skies rip and before I can open my umbrella
I am soaked to the skin –
The rain like cold needles drives into my skin,
stabbing into my heart and emptying it of secrets.
Steam rises from the street,
In the rising steam and driving rain
People move, barely seen, like wandering ghosts.
I have tried to chase away the memories.
In my mind I hear your voice
Like a call that crackles from a bad connection
and disconnects before I can interpret your words.
A man bumps into me and for a moment
I think he looks like you.
But he disappears into the mist and rain
And I accept I will never see you again.
Every time it rains, it reminds me of you.