www.whyville.net Apr 20, 2008 Weekly Issue



Ly100
Whyville Poet

Dancing in the Rain

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CREATIVE WRITING
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She was the crazy one,
My neighbor.
The one that gave money
To the homeless on the streets.
The one that always had a genuine grin
Stamped across her face.
The one who bent down
To be of aid whenever a stray dog was hurt.
The one whose heart melted
For others.
She was the one
That would rush outside
When the clouds gathered
Into a dark clump in the sky.

I watched her once.
She threw her front door open,
Yanked off her pink slippers,
And skipped to the puddles of water
On the street shouting with joy.
She danced as rain
Cascaded down her dark brown hair.
She didn't go back into her house until she was completely soaked.

Since I was a toddler,
I had always been afraid of rain.
Rain was the reason there was sadness.
Rain meant the angels in heaven were crying.
When I was younger,
I would cover my ears when I heard
Rain pounding on my windows
Or the startling thunder.

One day,
As I was headed home from school,
The sky turned dark.
The clouds poured rain.
I began to run
But once the first droplets of rain
Hit my face,
I smiled.
I threw my textbooks down on the cold cement
And covered them with my poncho.
I felt rain trickle down my arms,
Looked up towards the sky,
And felt free.
Free from worries.
Free from pain.
Before I knew it I was dancing with the rain
Dancing in the rain.

That day,
I fell in love with the rain.
I became close friends with my neighbor.
We would go outside together on cloudy days
And wait for the rain to soak us whole.

She's not here with me anymore.
If you ask me where she is,
I'll point to the sky.
I promised to take on my neighbor's legacy,
So whenever it begins to pour
I leap through my front door,
Slip out of my shoes,
And dance in the rain.
My heart melts for others.
I feel other's pain.

People make comments
About me behind my back.
Whenever I hear them,
I simply shake my head
And grin.
Now,
I'm the crazy one.

 

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