Poetry, Unassigned

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Monday, November 16, 2020

THOUGHTS

THOUGHTS

by Robin Shwedo

©: Robin Shwedo, 1985



We're about to have a storm.

The rumbling clouds

that spent the afternoon

homesteading on the horizon

are finally rushing in,

as if to make

a sneak attack.

I go out on the back porch

outside the dining room door;

the cement is still warm on my bare feet,

while the brisk breeze cools me.

Un-asked-for comes the thought,

If ice cream had feelings,

would this be what it's like

to be a huge scoop on vanilla

on a still warm piece of apple pie?

The first tentative drops of rain

plop onto the cement,

and I wander inside

to wait out the storm.



This is part of Love, Feelings, and the Seasons of Life, looking for a permanent home.

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