sitting in my car, waiting
for the rain to subside
road is pooling to a flow
roofs are soak, walls too
music competes with outside
and temperature is dropping
wind continuous
to shake the tree
old leaves falling
rotten branch breaking
i won't say it's punishment
but rather measurement
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nature's way of cleaning and loving. I like this one.