The Deluge
Little wonder the old man
in the Nursery rhyme
couldn't get up in the
morning; not because
he hit his head, but
deeply ensconced in
drowsy comfort with all
that rain pelting down.
We think of Nature as
sentimental or merely
indifferent to our hopeful
expectations, but there she is,
fondly reminiscing and taking
to provoking us as in
Biblical times unleashing
a flood from above.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Labels:
Poetry
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