The Day Waits

The day waits
with sluggish expectation.
Grey-green light settles
like a shawl across
a woman's shoulders.
Humbled, trees bow down
dampness rides the breeze.
Mists creep from the river
as drum-rolls sound.
Announcing, the guest of honor
lightning parts, the skies open
and rain falls,
blanketing my world.

By:  Graci
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copyright 2000 -- Lorrie Workman
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