POETRY
After the Rain
This evening the backyard glows
like an emerald, the leaves are
gemstones in a dark forest,
reflecting the dying light of the rain,
while the wet wood of bark
and fence posts offers no bite,
just moulders away with a
mushroom aura, anticipating
the decaying gloom.
Earlier a rabbit hopped
through the soft marsh of the grass
searching, investigating, hopeful
They aren’t leaves, they are drops
of jade, and peridot, above a
glade of malachite blades
while the topaz sky lowers its skirts
into a sapphire sea
Thank you, readers!
