TranquilA Poem by Jess KHeavy is the dust. It's all right, because the rain is going to pound it down. You don't want to utter a sound.
Mud in your toes, listening to the crows. Wind in the grass, gusting so fast.
Hearing the thunder fills me with harmonic wonder. Run under the tin shed. The cows are being fed.
Hearing the hail, I'm told to fetch a pail. Look at the sky light up, as I fill my cup.
Quiet breeze flowing, calm and composed, at last it's all past. © 2014 Jess KReviews
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