Eastern Rain SeasonA Poem by Stu. T.H.
The August Skies opened,
As wind chimes blow tunes so pleasant, But the air remains wet, What has caused it to be so upset? Though, when you have tasted it, It isn't bad -- not one bit, A wonderful day without sunlight, Often these days have the longest nights, On this veranda I have no company, Beside fleeting wind strokes, I feel so lonely, As the stench of rain dew penetrates my lungs, I feel my consciousness breaks down by chunks, Bliss -- Temporarily, I am un-human, Now, I am one with the image of a wet season. - Stu. T.H. (December 13, 2023)
© 2023 Stu. T.H.Author's Note
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StatsAuthorStu. T.H.AboutAccount administrators: Donny Wells, Dan Rastley. "We are an amateur poet group that writes short stories and poems which are typically strictly fictional in nature and roots. We make poems for ou.. more..Writing
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