*Warren Keating* Rain Rider
November 3
Who
Understands
Night
Rain
That
Pats
My
Window
Pane
With
Small
Hands?
I wake
And
Rummage
Through
Half
Forgotten
Lands
Until
The
Alarm
Sings,
The
Shower
Falls,
The
Kettle
Calls,
And
I wait
To
See
What
Hope
This
Day
Brings
To
Ease
My
Frail
Humanity,
And
Nourish
A
Bruised
Heart
Into
Art.
Who
Understands
Night
Rain
That
Pats
My
Window
Pane
With
Small
Hands?
I wake
And
Rummage
Through
Half
Forgotten
Lands
Until
The
Alarm
Sings,
The
Shower
Falls,
The
Kettle
Calls,
And
I wait
To
See
What
Hope
This
Day
Brings
To
Ease
My
Frail
Humanity,
And
Nourish
A
Bruised
Heart
Into
Art.
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