The rain washed,
moon. I am going to talk,
to clouds,
for a pause.
*
A serene
quietness.
Rain comes down in rhythmic dance.
No bird will sing now.
*
I will watch,
the bougainvilleas.
Shedding the coloured bracts
on velvety grass.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: March 15th, 2017 23:41
- Category: Nature
- Views: 12
Offline)
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