My Poetry: I Pretend the Rain

I Pretend the Rain

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I pretend the rain dropping heavy
on my windows are beetles,
running to get home before
the day drowns them.
Sipping at a cracked glass
of cheap red wine
I wonder if the world has stopped:
the streets are empty,
the sirens are silent,
even the cars seem to have disappeared.
I wonder if the world is at home,
warm and dry with loved ones.
Not wasting time
watching beetles race
on their window panes.