Rain-Drops


Rain-Drops by Maria Fokas I peeked out of my window this morning at 6 am. It had been raining all night. The misty damp air said, “Get back in bed.” But I keep my eyes on the rain; where stories come from. It fervently thrums on roof-tops, and pavements; drip, drop, babble, drum  – accent on the tempo before another thrum. I make myself some coffee; my lips tease the blend before I take that sip, then I click on the saxophone. I succumb to those sensual pictures from the late 1940s and 50s before my time. They did know … Continue reading Rain-Drops