My dog and I each have old fears that trigger quickly when the rain falls. I don’t know the source of her fears; they were already fully formed when she came to us as a young, abandoned dog. For that matter, I don’t entirely know the source of my own angst, but it seems to match hers well enough.
Three mornings past, we had a long, cold rainstorm, the kind that comes on the cusp of winter; and neither of us was happy. We had to wait it out together. But the rain always does end, and the sun returns. Last night again there was rain, but it is clearing now on a strong, cold wind.
I have used the Petrarchan sonnet form for this: abba cddc efgefg. I wanted something that would supply a fairly strong link among the stanzas. It provided just the right sequence between the scene and its accompanying thoughts.
Sonnet in a Storm
The day is somber with the sound of rain,
Brief bolt of lightning and replying roll
Of thunder, while the day’s gray soul
Goes weeping down the weary windowpane.
Within the room the light is on, to say
“All’s well.” The fearful dog needs comfort so
I sit upon the floor; my fingers slow
Caress her coat while musings go astray.
For both of us there is a fear of harm
Within that sound; I have no answers here
To take away the dread. I whisper peace
In vain; we know there’s no cause for alarm.
We know each other, sense the beating fear,
And wait together for the rain to cease.
A powerful poem. As I write this, It's raining heavily and the sky is dark, so your words resonate. Vancouver is infamous for its rain. One learns to adapt, or succumb to melancholy, or make a habit of escaping regularly to warmer, dryer places.