The rain.
It rains.
It pours.
It splatters against the windows, against the doors.
The droplets bounce.
The droplets splash.
They seem to dash, speed up and clash.
Some puddles form.
Some streams fill out.
The water cascades, gushes out the drain spout.
The clouds are dark.
The clouds come near.
How quickly did the sun disappear?
The shower worsens.
The banks are burst.
We are hoping it won’t bring the worst.
At last, it eases.
At last, a thankful sigh.
At least, the waters didn’t come too high.
The air is quiet.
The air is still.
I ponder, whilst sipping tea at the windowsill.
Nature anew.
Cleanses itself once more.
Until the next pour.
About the Creator
The Light Turns
It's Tuesday 7:13 a.m. A cold and clear November morning awaits Ray on his morning commute. Ray rubs his hands together in the front seat of his Subaru. He turns the air temperature up, but keeps the air on low until the air warms up. He looks at the backup camera screen and reverses the Subaru out of his driveway onto Trimble Road.
By John R. Godwinabout 24 hours ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.