Saturday, August 10, 2019

Untitled, Unfinished

The trailing end of day
Makes mist of concrete slab
Puddles pooling
In the uneven dips and potholes
The rain comes down in soft lines
Like a rip in fine stockings
When it strikes the water
It makes silver rings
And points of brilliant light
Like diamonds
Sinking under the surface
Like ice melting in the heat
Vanishing into nothing

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