Symphony of Wetness

By Daisy Dai

This rain feels like a shackle
around my ankle, chaining me
to my couch, making it so
I never want to leave my house, my TV, my blanket.

This symphony of wetness plays on with no conductor.

I just don’t care for the random
pittering of water, hostile bursts
of rumbling light, creating dissonance when
hitting my roof, my windowsill, my driveway.

It frightens my cat.

I want to remove the earth,
so that the rain falls through to a
dark abyss,
making no sound as it hits nothing.

Holy Father, silence this rain.

I wait with bated breath.
Because what kind of place would the world be,
if the rain was controlled by
some restless girl’s whims and fancies.

The rain may stay.