Walking Home in the Rain

By James Piatt

It’s raining again, and dark clouds are huddling together in the cold air. Old memories awaken as I near the old farmhouse. I’m walking slower now, and the path seems to be growing dimmer. Old visions flicker, then ebb like the ocean’s tide in my aging mind. The muddy road to my house has deep carvings in it brought in by the rain sculptor. A faint yellow glow shines from misty windows in the house ahead, and a shadow moves gracefully to and fro between rooms. In my mind, the present is mixed up with the past like an old dream; it is difficult to recognize the difference as time rusts from the evening into the night. In the corner of the sky, the languid silver moon peeks out between small gaps in the clouds, probably watching my slow movements, and wondering about aging, as do I. A willowy wisp of smoke is rising from the house’s chimney curling into sky, welcoming me home. As I approach the house old memories fade, and the presence returns, and as I enter the front door, I find warmth and calmness inside. 

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James, a retired professor and octogenarian, lives in Santa Ynez, California, USA, with his wife Sandy and a super-intelligent Aussie dog named Scout. He has had five collections of poetry published: The Silent Pond, Ancient Rhythms, LIGHT, Solace Between the Lines, and Serenity, and over 1,825 individual poems, 40 short stories, and five novels in scores of national and international literary publications. He earned his doctorate from BYU and his BS and MA from California State Polytechnic University, SLO. He was nominated twice for the Best of The Net award and four times for the Pushcart award.