Wet Winter Days

Sounds reach my ears
And beyond the steam
Rising from my cup
I see
The clouds shed
Their life giving tears

The gutters are transformed
Into flowing rivers
By islands if moss adorned
Such is the joy of rain
In this moment
Not one day of summer is mourned

I sit here by my tea warmed
As the radio crys
Pop stars so tragically forlorn
I just smile
It does the soul good
A wet Winter day once in a while

Dave James Horn ©

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