Towers in the rain
Building
towers in the rain,
brick by
brick, splashings of
mortar,
sinewed muscles
to weld
skin and bone,
give it
strength to rise up
from strewn
dirt and rubble.
Roots grasp
the ripe earth
to
stabilise, rock gently
a lullaby
in wild weather.
This fresh
deluge washes
over it all,
a new birth.
Glass goes
in, taped-over
windows to
the soul, staring
out through
giant kisses,
rose-tinted.
When the hat
goes on it
will all be done,
eager for
the first date,
standing in
this downpour
streaking
sound, eyes shut,
waiting for
something to start.
Copyright
Vickie Johnstone, November 25, 2020
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