Maybe She's Thirsty

Autumn misty rain;
Car music booms past the house;
Then, only silence. 

Tree branches are still;
Not a flutter in the leaves.
(Respect for the rain.)

Moist animal smell;
Mouth full, Olivia turns,
Chomping on her hay.

Delicate falling--
Dead leaves float their way to earth;
Others wait on trees.

Spider is waiting;
All she has caught are raindrops.
Maybe she's thirsty.

Beyond the dark woods
Light shines from the distant pond.
A lone bird cries out.

Public radio talks
In a car parked behind me--
Soft soothing voices.

Is it the weather
That puts me in this gray mood?
Let my sun come out.!

 

 09/04/2012