Types of Poetry

This is one type - A short poem about the rain in Seattle.
Types of Poetry

The Rain

I have seen it rain, in clouds and curtains, have seen its crystal droplets cracked and smacked against uncertain pavement. Its slanting arrows piercing the light beneath the face of green suspended from a pole.

I have seen it rain, in pounding drops plummeting from a brooding sky to light in crackling gusts on knobby asphalt and run skittering in oily sheets and streams into the gutter bed.

I have seen it rain, sitting with my face pressed against the tight mesh screen, breathing in the flooded air through taut dust of summers gone and seen the dusty tracks of tennis shoes smeared into the winter mud.

I have seen it rain, and waited nodding hours to see it stop, to see the moment when the last drop fell and cracked its solitary voice out against the stillness and heave a sigh into the sucking of the drain.

And I have seen the oily stretched reflections of neon on the surface of my coffee and the street was all a-streak with red and green and I pressed my fingers into the wire border of my room and drew upon the night with my lungs and murmured, "Yes, I have seen."

I have seen the rain.

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