I love the day
Gray.
We move the plants
From under the gable,
Watch the rain glance
Off the leaves, not able
To find the dusty,
Dry crust
Of soil below.
"It was your turn to water, you know."
"I am."
The sky
Moves by
On gray days.
Flowing,
Blowing
Fluffy puffs
Of laundry lint
With just a hint
Of denim
In them.
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3 comments:
Oh. Another post about laundry lint...
Hey, you made that "laundry lint" very poetic! Good job! Reminds me of Theodore Roethke. Glad to see your poetry again. Didn't we have fun with National Poetry Month?
Very nicely done. My favorite image:
Watch the rain glance
Off the leaves, not able
To find the dusty,
Dry crust
Of soil below.
Although, the lint metaphor for clouds is superb.
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