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Brian M Winningham

Spring Rain in Texas

Clouds skating across the heavenly blue pond.

Winds swirling above slowly make their way down.


All of the foliage for as far as I can see

Softly applauding with each fresh chill breeze.


Avian citizens hopping and singing and chirping

Flitting and diving and flying and flirting.


Chimes now continuously jangling and pealing

Like a playground of children yelling and squealing.


Leaves on limbs waving and wildly flashing

A quiet crescendo of cymbals softly crashing.


From the north and down to the top of my attic,

The sky has turned sullen, leaden, monochromatic.


Breathing through a wet woolen blanket, I peer all around

The world has become still and close as silence abounds.


Then a clap felt inside your chest follows on top of the flash

Lightning like paparazzi, thunder a continuous car crash.


Across in the distance a smudge runs on a straight drawn line

As you get that first scent of soil, cedar, oak, rotten leaves, and brine.


Closer still, sheets of water advancing across in rows and ranks

Almost instantly filling up lakes, streams, rivers, aquifers, and tanks.


The noise and fury overtake us all

Nature is big and we are small…

 

The sun slides back, brightly beaming

Warming and drying, and gently healing.


Spring rain in Texas renews the land,

An eternal legacy for woman and man.


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