When the rain fell, a world grew, and something vacant turned green.
As the world grew, its people loved, and something grew in them.
When the people loved, the people lost, and the world grew again.
Posted in response to the challenge Sijo Poetry.
When the Rain Fell
More by Acer Sacharrum
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It Begins
It begins —
This thing call Spring —
With sunshine and birdsong
Slowly infused into everything.
It begins with
Deep brown rivers gauged in viscous dirt roads,
As the frozen ground thaws and overflows.
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Nail Polish at Midnight
I painted my nails blue
because I couldn’t think what else to doto stop myself from thinking of you.
I didn’t realize until they dried,
it was the very color of your eyes:
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