The birds
Say more than my words
About this sterile
World which the virile
Rain is making wet.
We forget
That we are part of the whole
And lose our soul
In the daily grind.

Sometimes we find
Rain drops falling,
To a mind
Which can perhaps reach beyond the pap
Of the photogenic TV personality, who has nothing to say.
But she does our will to live sap
In such a pretty way


3 thoughts on “Sterile

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