Stopping In The Rain - Poem by Quentin Kirk
Stopping in the Rain
for Marie-Eve Leclere and her mission
Winding roads, giant mountains,
each a rainy season, blue-green.
Weeds flowering so modestly, so proudly,
spots of tiny villages.
With moving beautiful brown people
each with some, for the moment,
plan in mind.
Indian children stared
but did not
Beyond moving poetry of high piled clouds;
a small home-built church clothed in dignity;
beyond stoop workers who straightened to watch us pass;
slowly past cows and sheep on the roadway;
We stood still,
under an ancient tree
to watch what I had not seen for many years,
children playing in the rain.
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