I am listening to the hushed glow of the raining world
I spy a robin with a green worm in its beak,
balancing on a bean pole
I hear the soft thunder rumble
and watch shimmering golden-green leaves heave
withthe weight of quenching liquid
I am home
I spy a robin with a green worm in its beak,
balancing on a bean pole
I hear the soft thunder rumble
and watch shimmering golden-green leaves heave
withthe weight of quenching liquid
I am home
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
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