The clouds had hung like damp sheets for days.
The world, its spirit wrung, sopped,
Dripped on all and sundry like an incessant broken faucet.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
The soil, moved to rain-rage and faucet-fury,
Rejected the wet and would take in no more.
Homeless puddles dribbled in waves seeking refuge,
And were turned away at all ports.
Green drooped in shame, allowing tears to assemble in silence.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
But even damp sheets age.
With a final rip, frayed cloud gave way
to Sun.
A breakthrough…
I love this! You could have been writing about our weather for May. We are having a bit of sun right this minute, so I am going to run out and do some gardening while I can.
Your 88 words are worth a thousand pictures!
Hey, cool! Sounds like a quote that should be famous. Much more famouser than other quotes that are just stupid. 🙂 Thanks for dropping in Erin!
I loved this poem. You definitely have a wonderful gift with words and I look forward to seeing more. Plus, this photo is beautiful!
Thank you so much! I just have a little point and shoot but now that I know what I want, I am finding the more interesting possibilities in subject matter. So I really appreciate esp the photographers and visual artists that come by because I know they have more discriminating and imaginative viewpoints!
I don’t think you need any advice with your talent! You have a lot of really great photos!
🙂