a morning rain falls across the valley
in all directions, ignoring no one in
its relentless downpour... all the fish
remain below the surface in the lakes
and all the animals remain inside their
homes in the forest and all the birds
take no flights from one rock to the
other or from one tree to another as
they hide from the watery winter
morning that is the first of many...
the windless sky bends no trees nor
pushes anything around in its futile
attempt to gain control... leaves may
blow from one yard to the other but
none disappear and are otherwise left
to be gathered by some external device
that has little to do with the rain... a
gray sky covers like a knit cap without
ear muffs, preventing any blue sky
from being seen today at all... it is our
mother's way of telling us it is time to
rest our souls and weary bodies from
all the toil and turmoil throughout a
painfully boring year... we heed her
advice and go to ground once again.
8 January 2023
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