Ava Van Dusen
3rd & 4th Grade Poetry Winner
from behind the cold glass of the window pane
as the rain falls lightly but steadily outside.
It’s as if the rain is singing,
in its own language,
with many loud, tinkly voices,
one within another,
all whispering secrets of their own to the world.
The rain song becomes louder,
the voices creating a crescendo,
and yet louder,
until all I can hear is the song of the rain,
filling up the night,
one drop at a time,
the strange serenade ringing in my ears
as I walk into the darkness of my room.