Giving Into Grief

    by Diana Cole

Gray skies that keep me inside,

Gray skies that hide the blue

that isn't beckoning.

A weight, layer on layer

until sameness hangs so somber

no sun can burn through.

The smell of rain thickens,

clouds flex muscle, livid

with intent, rife with hazard.

To hear it boil over its iron lid,

the wild plashing against glass

a down spout's raucous pound.

For the rain to last hours, rapping

shingles, tamping down the grass,

its wire brushes riffling leaves.

This I want and nothing

to be left of dullness.

© 2011 Diana Cole

Diana Cole’s poems have been selected for publication by numerous journals including Sahara, Blueline, the Tipton Poetry Journal, The Aurorean, The Christian Century, The Chaffin Journal, Slipstream, and Avocet.  Her poem, “Though I Walk,” set for double chorus by Thomas Stumpf, won the Pharos Music Project’s award and was performed in New York City.

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