poems

Rain in the Piazza

Clouds move in behind the tower;

Graying, darkening, promising a shower.

The sky grows dark,

The day looks stark,

Rain is on the way.

 

People move for shelter,

Clutching collars tight,

And glance up at the threatening sight

Of nature on display.

 

Gray stone of the piazza

Seems darkened by the sky,

As a chill wind comes sweeping by,

And it becomes a rainy day.

****

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