Sad rainy days...
I fall apart slowly like a
soaked cardboard box.
Everything in life is dull
But a deeper color than it was
before
Just as rain soaks the trees and
weeds and makes them a deeper
color than on a bright, sunlit
day
How can a clear liquid change
the color of something?
Or perhaps it has color afterall,
we just can't see it.
I do see that there are little
mirror puddles between the
grasses in the yard
And that the yard is more
beautiful now than when
it is dry, for it holds a
mystery, an added depth,
through these little sunken
mirrors with wintertime's brown,
soaked grasses poking through.
There is beauty, when you look
past the surface--on a
sad, rainy day.
by Rebecca Yoder
at 7:58am on a sad rainy day
Please add your comments about what you like about rainy days.
I fall apart slowly like a
soaked cardboard box.
Everything in life is dull
But a deeper color than it was
before
Just as rain soaks the trees and
weeds and makes them a deeper
color than on a bright, sunlit
day
How can a clear liquid change
the color of something?
Or perhaps it has color afterall,
we just can't see it.
I do see that there are little
mirror puddles between the
grasses in the yard
And that the yard is more
beautiful now than when
it is dry, for it holds a
mystery, an added depth,
through these little sunken
mirrors with wintertime's brown,
soaked grasses poking through.
There is beauty, when you look
past the surface--on a
sad, rainy day.
by Rebecca Yoder
at 7:58am on a sad rainy day
Please add your comments about what you like about rainy days.
No comments:
Post a Comment