Photo taken of Brendan Behan painting, Dublin pub

The cold, hard rain:
the wind,
the leafless trees,
the puddles turned
to pools,
the sound of it
the muted green
and brown,
the tail lights,
stop lights,
the only light
that keeps us going,
this time
of year.

About pinklightsabre

Bill Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
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