Rain falls
on a Sunday afternoon
in spring
Cars splash puddles
playing like children
in rubber boots
The rat-a-tat
droplets on my
skylight cause me to pull
a light blanket
tighter around my feet
As the clouds
squeeze out all their tears
I feel into pain, long-suppressed
overdue its own
cry
the couch hugs me close
inviting me to a forgetful nap
but my muscles feel achy
and restless
A constant rebellion against stillness
Today
all the chocolate
will be consumed
Shannon M. Turner
previously unpublished, April 2015