After the storm

All night and into morning it rained.

Our yard is covered in leaves.

The path by the playground is muddy.

The pond bulges out of its banks.

I sit on a wet bench, ponder the future,

Offer prayers to a sullen sky,

And ask the Unknowable Essence to grant me

The strength to bind up broken wings

So everyone may soar.

11-7-24


Comments

Leave a comment