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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