It was a windy day in the city with
little clouds and tossing leaves. If
there had been rain, it would have
snuck through the colorless sky,
spilled of droplets white and blended
in my hot cup of spearmint tea, cooling it.
If there had been rain, I would have
seen the reedy clump caught where
the water churned low, gasping. If
there had been rain, those marigold
seeds just freshly sewn inside my
flowers bed would have hollowed out,
bare-skinned. If there had been rain, the
earlier impressions left by my son’s
bicycle track would have washed
along with the shadowed bones,
emptying out to sewer. If there had
been rain, a small girl edging near
the levee deep would have leaned
back where the ground grew muddy
and slick, darkening her yellow dress.
If there had been rain, the deafening
chaos of the outside would have
dissolved into fly speck, seeking refuge
in a heavy dew. As such, all things bend,
curve, fade, or turn in the rain: light, dark,
laughter, tears, grass, stardust, flesh.
… A Variety of Literature & Poetry from Indian Literature Review….
Lana Bella lives bi-continents, in the US and Asia, where she is a wife, and a mom of two frolicsome kids. She has her work published and forthcoming with with Anak Sastra, Atlas Poetica, Bewildering Stories, Buck-Off Magazine, Calliope Magazine, Eunoia Reviewers Magazine and many others.