The hail storm bursts out of the sunshine.
The spiraling rainbow frowns with mirth.
High above, the roofers stomp and hammer.
The water will not be denied its secret fall.
The whispers hide in secrecy;
Silence is their only friend.
The little birdy told me, said she.
This little birdy? said he, holding his newly stuffed prize.
The fire sparks and crackles with warmth,
Ravaging the terrain within its path.
20 March 2007 by Glen Alan Woods
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