to the silence between the raindrops,
The gentle sound of water hitting that old tin roof,
But still, in between lies my feeling of solace and peace and wanting,
These old eyes look up into the darkness, remembering
the youth long gone, the loves I had trashed, and the energy wasted,
I remember when the silence between the drops meant
my heart and mind knew of no closed doors, only rolling meadows
filled with me and my horse, ‘Dolly’ racing the hillside, rushing streams and jumping fences,
Now, I feel the silence between the raindrops and wish and remember and wish.
God, grant me an old tin roof, and a new pony and a hillside to rush
as if there is no space between the raindrops. Please fill the silence.