Daily Note
Every day, a photograph, a poem. We noticed on our walk by the lake that the mud is drying up, cracking into polygons that warn us of drought conditions. When are the April showers coming, and are they?
And so, a poem…
Silent Shout
finding
Sheri Edwards
winter’s frost
rising
back to the sky
cracking
dirt dry
shaping
warnings of drought,
shouting
silently
“Where are April’s showers?”
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Poetry/Photography
I wonder, if I draw a line... 