haying - revisited
the timothy is knee highit whips about my legs
dark clouds skim the mountain
the soft sound of thunder
bounces down through the canyon
to rumble out gently over the meadow
the edge of the rain is at the treeline
it slowly descends as a subtle
iridescent canvas
the first drops make dark circles
on my shirt
i start for the truck
the air is fresh
i sit and watch
as the rain captures the valley
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