Rain
Rain,
wet, cold,
tiny little molecules,
almost shaped like tagpoles,
clear, yet shades of blue,
pelting down as if almost new,
breathtaking from the grey smoking chimney view,
roaring winds sweep through the rear choking smog,
enchanting, yet behold misery, frustration, panic, eagerness run through,
back away, back away, from your rear window in situ.
Copyright © Amanda Sullivan | Year Posted 2012
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