At night, the droplets on a windowpane,
lit by streetlights when my home was dark,
were multitudes of diamonds made of rain,
and each one scintillated like a spark
that dimmed and grew in brilliance as I passed
this treasure that impressed me with its jewels
which, unlike gems of stones, would hardly last
and drip down to the windowsill as pools.
But though the treasure didn’t last for long,
in memory it’s had a great duration
and made me want to write for it a song,
because it formed a gorgeous decoration:
each droplet gleaming like a precious gem,
I treasured in the night the sight of them.
Mario A. Pita
Photo: Shannon Ridge