Interrupted by the Rain
by Mark Fleisher

I listen to the symphony
of crickets chirping
of hummingbirds
beating their wings
as my senses are bathed
by adagio waves
of Monday moonlight
until I lament
the steady raindrops
rudely planting wet kisses
on the columbine
prompting me to breathe
a disappointing sigh
before fumbling for
the keys to my shelter

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