The rain was a thing elemental
and pervasive, like a song that could be,
not only felt on one’s skin
but actually, stepped in. — Annette Marie Smith
perennially surprised by Minnesota
slate and pewter skies
when warm has been in bloom
long enough to fill the vase of the sky
with every shade of blue. — Annette Marie Smith
down the stream of my window pane
gleam against the dark mountains of storm
shiver like magic flowing by me. — Annette Marie Smith
I love foggy mornings like today.
It feels like anything can happen
from the fantastical to the mundane.
A god or goddess could step out of the fog and wish you good day.
You could get lost on your own familar way. — Annette Marie Smith