MONDAY: Rain Puddles


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Rain drops spear into the puddle
Sending eddies rippling to its muddy shore.
My rain boots on the verge
Form glistening black monoliths.
I raise one boot high
And force it down into the center of the puddle.
Water rushes high soaking my jeans.
I lift my face skywards.
Rain tears run down my face.
My palms are turned upwards
In silent supplication.


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  1. afiena kamminga

    I love the feeling this poetry evokes; not all poetry does that for me; and I look forward to seeing some of this writer’s children’s stories published for the enjoyment of readers of all ages!

  2. Pingback: RERUN FRIDAY: Rain Puddles |

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