All Suburban Raindrops

One day strangeness was everywhere
Perhaps it was something up in the air
All the clouds were made of amber
The sun gleamed in white porcelain
And all of life’s tired little raindrops
Came riding in on the six o’clock train
Ticket into turnstile
Suitcase upon lap
Newspaper crosswords
To do after a nap
Then cold dinner on the table
Noisy kids out in the yard
Because for all suburban raindrops
Working life is very hard

Poetry by Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2017-10-23 at 14:15

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ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
Bravo, Dave, a very good work.