Looking through some memorabilia Mom hand-selected for us all to look through after she left us, I found this old poem I wrote, published by the Stephenville High School English and Art Departments. Today is gray and rainy, too.
Gray Rain
As I sit here by my window
And watch the rain trickle down,
Down, slowly, uncertain of which
Path to take until it finally reaches
The end of my cheek, I wonder.
I wonder about children –
Laughing and playing in the rain
With no worries.
I wonder about elderly –
Who sit and listen to the rain
Pitter patter on the roof,
And of farmers who share
A sigh of relief with their families
Who realize that crops will grow.
I wonder why I cannot see
The joy of rain.
I only see a gray mist of wet nothingness.
Then I turn around, dry my face,
Try to find a smile, though my face
Doesn’t agree and my lips quiver and shake,
And I wonder, wonder on into eternity.
I wonder about the many faces of gray.
And it rains some more.
- Steve Coan, 1984
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