—
She whirls to the rhythm of the rain.
Her dance, light-footed –
A pirouette – in step with the beat
The light, gentle splatter of rain –
Drops stopped in full flight
By the chipped stones makes.
As the night light catches
The fringe of her costume
She is no longer there.
What we have is the after glow
Of stolen re-memory –
Of Peace and of repose
And the calming lightness
Of the patter of the Rain.
For Mag 303
A Geek's Life 
Oh I like this a lot!
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The opening line is simply beautiful and sets the tone for the poem. The patter of the rain in the end brings the swirl full circle.
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Whilring to the rhythm of the rain describes this image well. I think I would like to do that!
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A very engaging first sentence, it pulled me into the poem. Where did she disappear to?
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@Noirfifre – She doesn’t disappear in the common sense of the word, but by delivering a performance so in step with the rain and the surroundings we no longer see them as three different things, but as one coherent whole 🙂
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Ahh, clever.
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