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    Mikiesboy
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The content presented here is for informational or educational purposes only. These are just the authors' personal opinions and knowledge.
Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are based on the authors' lives and experiences and may be changed to protect personal information. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

tim's Bits and Pieces - 13. Walking in the Rain

This was just a little project but i decided maybe it could be a bit more... so a bit of a haibun poem for you.

Walking in the Rain

 

Thunderstorms rolled through my neighbourhood. I had to walk home after disembarking the bus and I was grateful, though I would be wet, at least it was warm. My route from the bus takes me by a cemetery. The sidewalk alongside it is covered by boughs of trees thick enough you don’t need an umbrella. It is a glorious space, in an open suburban landscape.

 

From above, rain falls
but the canopy protects
me, from a drenching

 

As I walked I noticed that some of the headstones were covered in colourful sprays of flowers. Wet now, the colours were even more vibrant.

 

Purple iris, and yellow tulips
together bring cheer to a
place where forgotten
hopes and dreams are buried.


 

Overhead, the deep sound of thunder rolled, yet the sun peeked through the dark clouds. Inside, instinct said hurry, hurry home. But the poet wanted to see and feel the air electric from lightening, see the vivid greens on the water-coated leaves and needles of the pines. I gazed on the ground in front of me and the grass—such an everyday and drab thing—was bright, fresh and brilliant in colour. Drops clung to the blades like morning dew.

 

We walk by our world

oblivious, not seeing

the beauty

offered by the rain.

 

 

Time, though infinite,

is finite

invest a minute

to look around and see.

 

 

***

Thank you for reading!

A special thank you to @MacGreg Sir, for the inspiration to write this.
Oh, i'm terrible, and @Zenobia also, who pushed me quite gently to see this as more. Thank you.
Copyright © 2018 Mikiesboy; All Rights Reserved.
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The content presented here is for informational or educational purposes only. These are just the authors' personal opinions and knowledge.
Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are based on the authors' lives and experiences and may be changed to protect personal information. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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6 minutes ago, JeffreyL said:

Your poem is a feast for the senses! I could easily imagine myself in place of the narrator. An old cliche, "stop and smell the roses," comes to mind. In today's world we are often too busy to take a moment to see and enjoy the things around us. Thanks for this reminder. Nicely done!

thank you very much Jeffrey.  yes you're exactly right .. stop and smell the roses .. my pleasure. Thank you for reading and commenting xo

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