It's raining again today. Long ago a dear friend's not so dear (now) ex-wife said, "Why do live here? It's not that great in the summer either?!" Normally, I would disagree. The hopeful compromise of living through Minnesota winter is that we have beautiful summers. This summer . . . not so much. Here's a little rain poem:
Rain Song
Dorothy W. Reilly
Flowers are blowing
In the breeze.
Wind is bending
All the trees.
Sun is hiding,
This cool day.
Clouds are gathering
On the way.
Rain is coming
Soon and long.
Nature's singing
A rain song.
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