3 Replies to “Springy”

  1. To Call the Goddess

    The old man lost faith in rain,
    stopped praying, whispered soft,
    I’ve had enough. I give.

    How many poems can you give,
    brother, to call the goddess of the rain?
    A shadow in a sheep’s clothes, soft

    wings flutter, a sound so soft
    you stop the car, pull over and give
    a listen to the whistle of a train.

    To hear the rain fall soft again? I’ll give.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.