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Pluvio MAG
The cry of a child
Came to my door
Knocking inquiringly,
Asking me to explain
The heavy warmth of
The rainstorm
Hoping I could help her find
The Harmonica she had lost.
I responded sharply;
I had been inside, and
The night had not yet
Smoothed my edges.
I went outside to search with her
Hoping to understand the Importance
Of the lost Harmonica
I found two children
(the girl and myself)
Running in the rain
She played me a song on her found
Harmonica, and
The sultry air
Was washed away.
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