each drop a prism

This morning
on the way out
rain water was clinging
to the bottom of the clothes pole
each drop a prism of greens and
golds and browns
flashing as I walked
towards it and the sun
These are the kinds of days
in which we can dream….

:- Doug.

Published in: Conversations | on November 20th, 2008 | No Comments »

You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

Leave a Comment

Social Media Auto Publish Powered By : XYZScripts.com