Fickle Weather
This morning, when I awoke
The rain was thundering down.
So hard, so fast,
Sounding like drums on the roof.
Then... it stopped.
Now the sun is brightly beaming down.
The wet leaves, still dripping
Have a glorious shine to them.
Everything looks so bright,
Fresh.
Through the trees
I see the clear blue sky.
Soft white clouds
Where only an hour before
A dark rain cloud
Covered everything.
Fickle weather.
Copyright © Francine Roberts | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment