Tapping
Soaked leaves of green
bereft of rain
with palms up.
The trunk,
a lanky youth -
feet tall, chest out.
Oak peeks, at prism,
looking through
square window.
Big puffy clouds
not seen,
but thunder is heard.
Inside is dismal,
cloudy and gray,
except for tapping.
Four walls press in
to see
what’s all the fuss…
Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2025
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