Sounds of rain
Staccato taps syncopate
justification on your cautious hood.
Staccato taps syncopate
justification on your cautious hood.
Wet Woods, a set on Flickr.
Foggy this morning,
Outside my head and in.
Autumn fog, rising in late summer heat.
I suffer an excess of insulation,
And scrunch my jumper into its pocket
While the dog waits as a handy standby batman.
Wet trees’ trunks arc seductively to plain-tone pales
Pocked by the slickly ripening domes
Of this season’s outcropping mushrooms.