Lawrence Beck Poems
The Gloom Moved With Me
The rain is different here from
How it was where I was growing up,
More vicious, with a shorter reign.
It wounds, but quickly moves away,
And then the sun begins to heal.
Where I grew up, the rain would
Stay. It didn't sting, but slowly
Ate away the hopes of those
Within it. I have moved, and
Learned the rain is brief. The
Sun soon will return, but, unlike
Those who grew up here, my
Hopes don't blossom when it
Does. The drizzle washed them
From me many years before
I am hungry, dear. I have to leave.
I saw you months ago, and thought
You needed food. I fed you love,
But you have given none to me. I don't
Know if you even tried. Your silence
Stands, stern maitre d, before the
Swinging kitchen doors, and every
Plate which issues from it shows
Up clean when brought to me.