Cutting the Surfaces
Rain through the trees
and the wind makes horizontal
waves of drops. Near where I stand, little
seas have formed that drown the
green and brown weeds that have
slipped through the cracked land.
Now light of clearing sky
floats on these glass-like bodies
and gathered before the Sun's burning
pushed its light into golden shards,
cutting the surfaces.
Copyright © Jennifer Cahill | Year Posted 2019