my sneaking tears

how heavy fell the rain that day
from burdened clouds of mournful grey.
the torrent forced them stay their height -
composure swayed by onerous might.

my skin wrung wet with icy chill
as mud embraced that sodden hill; 
but mind of mine had elsewhere gone -
‘twas clouds abandoned I was on.

the driving drops advanced their gears
to camouflage my sneaking tears -
whence now did swell such floods of pain
to see me melt into this rain…

on equal bearing now were we: 
this rain, myself, in harmony.

- mark r slaughter