The Wet Flower Sings

The Wet Flower Sings
-Ruthi W, age 15-
August 11, 2006

The wind is screaming, pitches slowly rise and fall
The limbs of trees are grating glass, its screeches raining gall
Flip-flops wade through sodden Earth, grass blades scraping naïve toes
Rainbows sprinkle into pavement, majestic refraction ebbs and flows.

Plink, plink, plink, the leaves quaver themselves dry
The clouds begin retreat, the beat of fluidity slows and dies
Moving, moving, moving, sultry oxygen claws your lungs
Heavy legs stagger over the chasing current, fallen logs exerts like salty tongues.

Earth’s perfume blossoms from slit coverings, alone she bravely stands
One petal slumps down loosely, droplets glisten off her hands
Sweet insect climbs her heart’s lip, petals stretch, awaken wings,
Nature’s bath is ending, Earth shines, the wet flower sings.