Tumultuous Raindrops
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An old friend for many years,
my cane's ready for our walk.
And yet, I linger a while,
listening to two crows squawk.
Hiking on the trail, I hear
the distinct call of a quail.
And watch the dust devils twirl
as the weeping willows wail.
Far off, rumbles of thunder
warn a storm is on its way.
And as I start to head home,
charcoal clouds turn blue skies gray.
Tumultuous raindrops fall
as children splash ankle-deep.
And yet, from my veranda,
their laughter lulls me to sleep.
(Quatrain)
5/16/2015
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015
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