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Yellow Taxi
I wait bags in hand
the constant pull at my heart
makes leaving harder
the rain outside mists down
as though there was no end
each tear pours down my cheek
creating a river to my soul
I don't want to leave my world
but I know that if I want a change
i must leave my comfort
The rain hits the shutters harder
as I see the yellow taxi pulls up
I embrace them all
I say goodbye
and run to the beaten up metal
Never once looking back
Never once coming back
It's a memory-disturbing poem; every reader will have a memory in their lives of a scene like your poem. The wetness of it: rain, tears, river; will bring back images everyone has of catching a cab on a wet day. I could hear the traffic on wet streets, while I read your poem. Anyway, I talk too much. I just wanted to say I like your poem.