Site icon A Hundred Falling Veils

Thirsty

 

 

 

At last, the rain,

a furious rain,

that turned into

tiny fists of hail,

shredding leaves

and pummeling

everything it met,

 

it rained as if

one day, charged

with intensity,

might change

a hundred days

of drought—

 

and, oh, the world after,

bruised and shining, still thirsty.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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