The Storm
The sky
grey as antique pewter
greasy with dark clouds
the air heavy
with wet promise
and nearby a robin
lilts a paean
to the joys of
drowned worms.
The wind
chugging through
the trees in the park
like a runaway locomotive.
The trees
scattering their seeds
upon the ground;
defying biblical injunction.
Friday, September 13, 2013
Labels:
Poetry
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