This is just an observational poem, but with a bit of artistic licence... I took the weather from life but added the child and her mother from my imagination. There were some kids playing with a ball on the football field though, which I think fed into the idea.
Branches black against a near white sky
Bleached by the season
Leached of all blue
A small child in the distance
Running after a ball
Then, almost suddenly
The sky darkens
Bruised with grey
The wind picks up
The child runs back to her mother
And hand in hand
They return home
Just as the rain begins
No comments:
Post a Comment