On the first Saturday
of the second month
there was three weeks rain.
Followed by four knocks on the door
five thunderous stamps on the floor
and six times the combined sound in echo.
After seven minutes I could take no more
it took eight long strides to reach therefore
turning the handle nine degrees to outpour
tea from a pot I’d been brewing ten bags before.
Sun is not just our light-giving fireplace.
Without it’s gravity,
Earth would hurtle alone:
a lifeless rock through space.
Believe what you want,
nobody knows for sure,
and the unknowable today,
will certainly be yesterday tomorrow…
Just a raindrop on Earth’s top,
where we land not sky’s plot,
supposed to help planet sort,
what is living from what is not.
I wish I knew all the trees;
by name not disease;
their branches, leaves, seeds;
and what they’re saying with ease in breeze.
First posted last night, and others just now; letter count fitted for colourful backgrounds; on Facebook.
mistYmuse 