The Muse

(An International Journal of Poetry)

ISSN 2249 Ė2178

 

Volume-2                                             ††††††††† JUNE -2012                                                    Number-1

 

 

The Beauty of the Rain

By  Jennifer C. Wolfe

In the distance I hear a trainís lonely whistle;

The sky is gray, awash with spring rain.

Waterlogged birds hide underneath house eaves,

Blades of starved grass grow, seemingly before my eyes.

 

Torrents of rushing waves pour across muddled pavement;

The concrete turns into a playground for fish worms.

Soaked wildflowers reverently bow their heads,

Squirrels hide within their nests, clutching acorns.

 

Outside my window lies a tapestry of oceanic magnitude;

The sewer grates are overrun with rampaging deluge.

Rabbits race across my yard at feverish paces,

Their silky brown fur turned the color of mud.

 

Childrenís cries of laughter flow as freely

As the water droplets washing their every action.

Pairs of red, yellow, and black rubber boots

Jump unrestrained into the allure of inviting puddles.

 

In the distance I hear a trainís lonely whistle;

The sky is gray, awash with spring rain.

Capsized paper boats float down the drenched street,

While tree leaves emerge, seemingly before my eyes.

 

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