Anyway, if you know me, you know I hate prose poetry in general, but I was just thinking about it today and thought maybe it was time I gave it a go. Here's my attempt:
Love Poem to Raindrops
You couldn’t write a poem to love so instead, you thought of rain and all the times you waited for its coming. One dusk, at fourteen, sitting underneath your parents’ porch, you watched a slate cloud roll in at dusk and felt the rumble, too, inside yourself, a warning that you’re not supposed to heed. Remember how the headlights of his truck illuminated mist, your face with gold against the bleakness. Remember running out into the drizzle your hand above your hair, a vain attempt to keep it dry. Remember that and realize the first drops of a storm will disappear into the thirsty earth.
I want to work on this a little more, maybe when napomo is over. I want to add on other experiences with rain/love, and maybe have this as a little chain of poems.