Summer chairs puddle with rain.
Pots overflowing, drowning.
Stiff straws of grass, stubbornly
brown, turn their backs to redemption.
Daisy and Phlox bow gratefully,
a Monet of cerulean and maize
dripping their scents on
saturated soil.
Although watched faithfully in
it’s first few phases,
the full moon will go unseen tonight.
Maurading mists, turbulent torrents
Rushing, raging, roaring--
circling north and east--
change our view of the world.
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