A SYMPHONY OF RAINDROPS

Nothing composes itself,

Like a paper bag

In the pouring rain.

Hiding behind snow,

A ragged leaf of a woman

Counting apple cores,

To a symphony of raindrops,

Hanging on the washing line

Of a towboat passing;

Her face in the water,

Ripples, changes,

Then its gone.

Honouring the rain,

The lily faces the sky,

Watching it pour.

A woodpecker knocks,

Echoed by a still forest,

And insects.

A swan and a cygnet

Swim with their guardian angel:

The summer rainbow.