Terry Davis' painting reminded Wayne of a poem he wrote 10 years ago.
He shared it with me and I wanted to share it with our readers.

Virga
by Wayne Lee

Clouds like a torn curtain
hang over the mountains
A boy waits for his father's return

Raindrops turn to ice crystals
disappear in mid-air
A mortar detonates near Baghdad

The boy stands mute
clutches a folded flag
Some rain never reaches the ground



 


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