Flooding in our town, while southern states face drought and prairie fires.
(A Vondelet Sonnet Variation) When clouds roll dark, the skies pour rain on rain, as angels whisper crimson, blue and green to bring a Spring of promise, wild with gain, while sister states hold down a strong desire for smell of raindrop pelts on dry terrain; our windshield wipers sing a break-dance song cocooned within a vacuum too arcane when clouds roll dark, the skies pour rain on rain. Yet now we join our neighbors’ glum refrain to pray for moisture measured to prolong; our plants show wilted heads bent down in pain while air, intense with heat, forecasts a fire. As angels whisper crimson, blue and green, the earth greens up as winter hides again, when clouds roll dark, the skies pour rain on rain.
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