A Little Rain

My love has been beaten down
and ripped from me.
There it lies over in the corner
like a pile of cobalt blue, rotting,
weeping bananas.

Forgive me if I am wrong,
but here is a snapshot of what I believe.
My creation was my destruction.
And my destruction is the harshest
music ever heard from a once beautiful,
life-shaped guitar, that in the past,
sweetly caressed my flesh.

 How do I feel about myself?
Not so good right now.

But do not worry.
Because like every
Heavy canopy of clouds

I, too, must
at times
release
a little rain.

                                    Tanya Washington
                                         2001 Lubbock, Texas

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