User Review( votes)
written by: Sue Vanderberg
Outside my window he says drip, drip, drip, drip.
His voice is so deep that it stirs me from my sleep.
It does not frighten me, I do not weep but from my slumber he does keep.
Outside my door I hear the pit pat of my neighbor's feet
walking down the street
and I wonder who she is headed to meet.
It’s 5:30 in the morning and too dark for us to greet.
All around me I hear the soft inhale and heavy exhale of air.
They carry on without a single care. The man repeating drip, drip, drip, disturb them he does not dare.
He and I are quite the pair.
My heart ticks in time with his words as Into the darkness I stare.
I look for him but I know he’s not really there.
She is an artist and a poet with a wanderlust soul and lover of nature. She volunteers her time with the homeless and her services as a face painter for different worthy causes in the surrounding communities.
Sue is an artist at Bird in the Mountain Art.