WORK
Dear Rain
An Epistolary by Ralph Serpe
Dear Rain,
Why won’t you play with me today?
You have so much to give.
You could spare a drop, just a drop.
But you sing with the oak, frolic with the elm, and dance with the pine.
I had a friend like that,
But I wither and grow weak.
A lightning bolt should cut me in two,
Then I won’t feel so alone.
An icy wind should blow and turn you into snow,
Then everything will be as cold as me.
You won’t play with me today,
Unlike yesterday when you caressed my branches on a warm summer’s day.
No, you are cruel today, dear Rain.
You nourish only what is new.
Do you remember?
In spring,
When you played your symphony on the lake?
And gave me all that I could take.
It’s all dry now.
No more music does it make.
Please play with me today,
So I can drown my sorrows away.
Sincerely,
An old friend