Bad time for the needed rain to fall this day and those to follow. Hard looking for the sun to stimulate the soul. To melt the frost laid down low in words I didn’t mean or meant because there hadn’t been the strength of daylight. Instead fell fool to the mocking of the moon.
Born of magma wantings warmed in layers, payers. Upheavals settling into walls of rock still clinging to a single diamond brought to surface. Welcome to the Earth and all its people.
While raindrops start to gently fall, like pickaxe strokes upon the ground.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology