rainy day thoughts

the gods look with weary eye
upon mailbox laden rainy streets

nine thirty am, the smell of rain
still hanging in the air,
sloppily dressed
guitar salesman
lingers by the bus stop

11/25/14



Poetry by Thomas Perdue The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2014-11-27 at 20:32

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Thomas, you always paint us a picture in your lyrical words. In this one you leave us to ponder about that sloppily dressed guitar salesman on that rainy morning. What does a guitar salesman look like? Yet, you make us see him. I enjoy reading your poems.
2014-11-27



Basho/Chinese-like piece. A moment in time captured in words, and with an appropriate atmosphere. I've always loved the rain--I don't think I'd be happy living in the desert :)
2014-11-27