If I was really being alliterative, I would have titled this Wet Windy Wednesday.
My mind has been else where and so Clo Ann Smith has introduced me to the Siberian Poet--that spot where your mind is barren.
I'm watching the rain drops
form their tears
on the window.
They gather in groups
form drips that race
down the pane.
Wind changes gravity
as the streaks
slide in a diagonal tail.
Over the slick city streets
a lone seagull
glides, flying the waft.
What will my day be,
teary raindrops
or seagull rides?
Hope your day has lots of new experiences, providing something to write about for poetry.
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