Storm, The
by: Margaret Stanley-Wrench
Down poured the rain;
the closed window streamed
With its cold tears;
leaden hung the leaves
With a load of rain,
heavier than grief;
And the white trumpets
of bindweed flowers,
the open trumpets of joy
and summer were splashed with rain,
Stained like the faces of children
scattered with tears.
There was no word,
you rose and walked away,
And all I saw were
the pale heart-shaped flowers,
And the rain falling,
more silently than tears.
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