Pluviophile // Adrienne Lumpp ‘23

Pluviophile

Adrienne Lumpp ‘23

As a child I was amazed by the rain; Lambs and flowers painted my walls. The light from the crescent cast the watery showers on my crib And made the sunflowers bloom.

Lullabies whispered by rainwater.

I gradually started to divert my attention Away from the patting and onto my life, And the pinks and greens faded into a dull white. I closed my windows and muffled the trickles, As lightning slammed and flashed through my drapes. Rainwater turned into background noise.

My curiosity still gazed through the glass, Following the drops as they slid down her window. Eventually my sunflowers wilted into solid pinks and greens, While constellations reflected against my wooden frame. Nursery rhymes read by rainwater. Eventually my walls began to peel And the rooms were dismantled into cardboard. But I never realized the aesthetic pleasure of the darkness. Despite all the moonless and hopeless evenings endured, I stopped to listen to the melody of the rain. Rainwater turned into symphonic peace.

Jordan Migis ‘21 love Paper and Acrylic