Look, stranger,
The warm pouring rain,
On the endless fields of green,
Perfect, jewelled, vibrantly green grass,
Brushing against your fingertips.

Look, stranger,
The rain turning into wet thuds,
The warm showers racing to meet the ground,
The spicy earth scent of autumn.
Entering your nose.

Look, stranger,
Scattered powder-puff clouds,
Wandering around the sky,
Nothing is still,

Apart

From

You.