|
After The Storm |
|
in the morning light platinum tinges the sky the warm air grows still birdsong fades away crickets' and peepers' voices vanish like ripples platinum turns gray grass, leaves whisper their worry leaden clouds grumble a sliver of light slashes a cut in the clouds brilliant yet fleeting the leaden clouds roar the sky squalls and cries in a wild temper tantrum grass and leaves press flat wind and water pound their fists beating the hard ground then like a spoiled child the sudden tantrum passes lead turns to azure the child leaves his toys grass and leaves scattered and torn leaves to play elsewhere crickets and peepers and birds raise their song as they await the next game --2001 |