‪where the tiny children stomp and play ‬ ‪

 

rain showers chill in the quiet early morn

but the howling winds excited gather

for thunderous din upon the roofs of tin 

mighty drops of glass down crash boom

they’d hoped to sail their own crystal sea 

but all that’s left are the sorry puddles

where the tiny children stomp and play 

and to add insult to this hopeless day,

when the sun awakens from its daily nap

not even the river of dark forgetfulness 

remembers to forget their torrential tears 

Copyright © 2018 Stacey Harris