Let It Rain - Natalie Crick

Let It Rain - Natalie Crick

Trees are like songs

In the air, sighing,

A green blush

To evening sky. 


Raindrops on the windows

Are already starting to melt.

The mourning dove

Coos lost love. 


I am a held breath,

Face turned to beaten sky,

Dark and purpled. 

I am the bowl. 


I am the collector. 

Let it rain

Liquid solitude,

Translucent at dusk. 

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About the Author

NATALIE CRICK, from the UK, began writing when she was a very young girl.

Her poetry has been published or is forthcoming in a range of journals and magazines including Ink in Thirds, The Penwood Review, Interpreters House, The Chiron Review and Rust and Moth. Her work is also featured in a number of anthologies, including Lehigh Valley Vanguard Collections 13.

Her poem, 'Sunday School' was nominated for the Pushcart Prize.