The Rain Goes on Without You
Sometimes I think how the world
will go on without me.
Traffic lined up at stoplights,
billboards shining in the rain.
The temple still there on the corner
laughing pre-schoolers inside.
Stores still selling their stuff,
all the things I bought over the years,
none of which mattered much.
Not a discernible iota of me remains
or maybe I’m part of all that’s here.
Shopping carts in the Kroger lot,
people on endless errands.
It all means something
or it doesn’t.
8 thoughts on "The Rain Goes on Without You"
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
Beautiful poem. This is something I think about often, as well, but have never been able to quite find the words for.
The ending is a great question, posed in an understated way.
I really enjoyed this poem.
Those of us who sometimes forget to cherish each precious moment of this way too short lifetime should read your poem every day.
Only we can make the fact that we live matter. I need to stop waiting for other people to do that for me.
Bruce Florence
Love the title, love the poem.
A close relative of mine once told me, “You will be gone one day. Memories of you won’t likely last beyond two generations. Do what you want. Live.”
This poem reminds me of this conversation (in a beautiful way, of course!).
I appreciate how you touch upon such a delicate and important aspect of our existence: it’s fleeting nature.
Beautiful!
Thanks for your kind words.
Stores still selling their stuff,
all the things I bought over the years,
none of which mattered much.
Really like this, Pat.
Thank you!