Winter Rain Sestina

i.

Bodies weave through the rain,
As the late winter sky goes dark.
A sea of thoughts thrashed against gray,
A second captured and an hour lost.
Partaking together one moment,
Yet maintaining a state of solitude.

ii.

A mind unto its own solitude,
Alone and drenched in the rain.
And although there is a shared moment,
It won’t stop the falling dark.
Time is slipping and time is lost,
Awash in a deluge of gray.

iii.

The matter of matter is gray,
A matter of matte solitude.
Against the canvas of faded and lost,
Slippery with the essence of rain.
The portrait taken in the dark,
Capturing a shadow of a moment.

iv.

There is and is not just one moment.
Time as a constant tastes gray.
In the end all is murky and dark,
In the end all that’s left is the solitude
Of moments captured once in the rain,
Captured and then forever lost.

v.

All time in the end is lost,
Each moment fades into each moment.
More numerous than every last drop of rain,
Running together in great sheets of gray,
And beckoning with songs of solitude,
Sung too low, too muted, too dark.


vi.

The days of the past dwell in the dark,
Reside in the world of the lost.
Impossible to escape solitude,
That which belies the shared moment,
Washed out against a canvas of gray,
And draining away with the rain.

Envoy

Each will go dark, every last moment.
In the end lost, in the end gray.
There is only solitude. There is only the rain.