I'm in Germany and It's raining


Eifelstrasse Wittlich

A spoken word poem comes on my podcast in my car.

It is the first I've ever heard

The words are few and strong

They cut me to the core, through the armor of my illness

Inspiring the first spark of emotion in months

This lightless country is suddenly visible through the fog

It pours into me like water

I can smell the fennel fields in the drizzle again

I can feel the weight of my heart again

I can hear the gasps of her sorrow tear from her throat for the first time

And everything is beautiful

The curtains pulled back

And I'm alive again.

This poem is about: 
My community
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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