Poetry (Day 233): Rain




Sudden splatter of rain,
like moths
against the window.

Then comes
the mad scramble,
down the stairs and
out the back door
to the clothes line.
Grabbing clothes,
snatching at pegs
throwing them all
in the basket,
like the wild flutter
of butterflies.

By the time you start the dryer
and find somewhere to hang
the rest of the clothes inside
the rain has passed, leaving the day
fresh and cool, and dining room festooned
with heraldry from the knights of Nike,
and French Connection, and the lacy
pennants of Wonderbra.


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