All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Untitled MAG
Great torrents come splashing down.
Like endless tiny drums,
they beat on him.
I see him now.
Walking as he always does:
in the rain.
He says it's like music to him.
Gentle flutes for the little drops,
Sometimes cymbals for the larger ones.
Walking as he always does:
in the rain.
He says it mingles with his music.
He listens as he walks,
James Taylor, mostly.
Singing with the symphony of drops.
Like a lullaby,
Soft,
Drowsy,
Complete.
The rain is ending, and he is now gone.
Home now,
To me.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.