Through everyday trials, we continue.

The Downpour —-revised

Water trickles down my nose

and gathers at the tip.

My head a bowl of matted hair,

a birds nest on my head.


My shoes are now a soggy mess

of leather, dye, and tangled laces

I plod like a rhinoceros across

the  muddy field.


A flicker of self consciousness

darts through my mind

then vanishes.

Grace and vanity be damned.

I plod a little faster.

Poetry by Hans Bump
Read 365 times
Written on 2021-04-10 at 18:40

Tags Whimsical  Rain  Fun 

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Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
Very interesting. Farmers love the rain.

Bibek The PoetBay support member heart!
Very Zen-like. And, yes, I echo what others have said in the comments already.

Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Very nice.

one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
Highly evocative. I want to ask you to wipe your feet before entering, then offer tea and sympathy!

Peter J. Kautsky
Great metaphors, "rhinoseros" "bird's next". The vanity leaves, everything leaves. I wrote a poem a while back entitled, "Downpour" . Shall we compare metaphors?

Had I not known, I would have thought this a translation of one of the T'ang poets, Li Po or Tu Fu perhaps, or Han-Shan plodding on Cold Mountain. It's very Chinese in its perspective and would resonate with a reader two thousand years from now just as the ancient Chinese poets do with us today.

Interesting how useless grace and vanity really are. They won't keep you dry.

It's interesting. There comes a point where we can't get any wetter or muddier and it is as if we no longer are.
Thank you Hans.

jenks The PoetBay support member heart!
You need some wellies...

The first stanza is funny :)