Gray drops paint charcoal shadows on the skin. <br />They wear the windowpanes of old souls thin. <br />Hold out your hand against the falling light. <br />Believe with me that rain is infinite. <br /> <br />The mood is fragile as a curtain lace, <br />Such filigree no weather could replace. <br />Your fingers brush a brief tear from my eye. <br />Such tenderness deserves a warm reply. <br /> <br />Copyright,2009, Sandra Fowler<br /><br />Sandra Fowler<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/charcoal-shadows/
