In monsoon moments, all falls still —
sounds of curb flow and gutter spill.
A restful ease from the patter
as raindrops fall, hit, and splatter.
Of lost minutes, I take my fill.
By the window, chin on the sill,
I watch water far below rill.
A car passes, no birds scatter.
-In monsoon moments…
In dim mid-day, I feel a chill,
though Tropics, says the Barbet’s trill.
I’m free — the Madness of the Hatter,
drowned out is the useless natter.
Though tempests may rage; all is still.
-In monsoon moments…
Very nice!
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Amazing!
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