Mondays are just young Fridays

Our landscape
ever so grey. Lifeless,
boring, ever so plain.
Our mood is altered.
We need the rain,
a common cry, we need
the rain to cleanse the sky.
This cold dark earth;
we need the rain
to nourish our soul
and give us flowers again.
We need the seasons.
We need the rain.

04/15/2019                                       j.g.l.

 

APRIL IS POETRY MONTH
breath    believe    receive

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