Wet Soul Poem by Rajesh Gurung

Wet Soul



Fat glistening fingers drum roofs
into a rhythmic lullaby
a sharp retort, a flash
sheen everything plastic
Children with soaked second skin
disturb settling puddles
shrieks answer shrieks
steps hurry them home
to warm tea
Safe in the warmth
of a room
The fire, this book
Cannot stir this cold
wet soul

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