In The Late Night Rain Falls Whispering Poem by Gert Strydom

In The Late Night Rain Falls Whispering



In the late night rain falls whispering,
blossoms on branches move in the wind
and I am aware of the smallest sound
as if in the darkness I can find something
and for moments the night becomes dear to me,
while I again feel innocent like a child
but still life outside stays dark.

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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom

Johannesburg, South Africa
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