“Rain, rain, go away,”
said the little boy.
Harrumph went the old man.
“It’ll just come back another day.”
#100Poems: Number Eight
rumbling
rumbling
thundering
storming
rumbling, rumbling sky
sounds from a thundering, storming sky.
#100Poems: Number Seven
Distraction kept me
from noticing the scene outside my window —
Green.
Everything green with new life.
It’s hard to imagine
a world that just
yesterday
sagged under dead leaves
and the colorless pall
of a long winter.
And now —
life.