Downpour

I miss the sacred Carolina rains of my childhood —
Even, soft, gurgling ‘neath my window
And down into the earth below,
The crisp cold waters of Appalachia
That quench the mountains and feed its streams,
The sound and rhythm of boyhood,
A natural part of long summer’s day,
A break in the routine for a quick nap.

 

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2 thoughts on “Downpour

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