It’s raining here again,
been raining for days,
my garden’s are flooded
my yard now a pond.
This hairstyle I worked on
for hours and hours,
now nothing but a mass
of frizz and tight curls.
The curls are an unruly, unholy mess,
unruly my curls are, brought on
by the rain because it’s been
raining for days and days again.
The frizzy concoction on top of
my head is unwanted, unloved in fact, despised describes it best as droplets run down the back of my neck.
Baptized by the Earth’s petulant moods, try as She might to remove the stain of my birth upon this contrary little place, where it rains and it rains.
My blood, man’s blood, woman’s blood, none of which can be cleansed
by Earth’s drizzles, showers
and incessant daily downpours.
It’s raining tonight, Earth downpours
her tears on desecrated lands,
spirits fragmented, dismembered hope,
I think it’s time for bed.
Gypsie’s Wonderful World of Words 
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