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Posted by on Dec 30, 2016 in Nature Poems | 1 comment

Poem: Rain

Rain Daniel Sanchez

The first drop came without warning.
Clashing against the soil,
sending fragments in every direction.
The second drop was inevitable.
Landing directly next to the first,
swallowing it, becoming more.

The ferns rejoiced
for salvation was a rarity here.
Standing with their mouths agape,
they quenched their dwindling spirits.

But salvation was relentless.
The third and fourth drops came,
Followed by a fifth and a sixth. 
The seventh brought dismay
and the eighth brought surrender. 

Disheartened, the ferns looked
to the drops colliding with their skin,
then looked down to the parchedness
where the beetles clung to shelter.

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1 Comment

  1. Thank you for sharing your poem with us, Daniel. I particularly liked the first section, as your choice of vocabulary suggests the rainfall starts like the beginning of a military attack. You might want to rethink the word ‘quenched’ in line 10, as it doesn’t seem to reflect what you’re trying to say – their dwindling spirits weren’t being finished off by the rain, but refreshed and renewed, surely?

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