In the Library

A teensy tiny poem for spring

We’re sitting in the library

with its walls of window

and the rain has begun

as if unaware

of the sun’s presence. Suddenly

everyone’s running

and they kick it up as they run:

the rain and the light

and the rain catching the light.

Off the branches, droplets bead

like little, glass globes.

Thanks for reading Trina Keeps Trying! You can find my other posts here, and you can read my poetry here. You can also subscribe to receive written works, made with love, straight to your mailbox every week.