The wettest year. Wetter
than any previous, but now
a new year, a new day. And he
coaxes sunshine into sparkling
onyx as he polishes the last
reminders of rain from his car.
.
.
.
January is the River of Stones Challenge, small stones of poetic observations, one per day.
Love this “coaxes sunshine into sparkling onyx” and thought you were going elsewhere. Liked the surprise and thanks for the visit,
Elizabeth
Thanks.
The poor man polished his muscles sore.
LOVE this, Misky. What a beautiful little moment.
Thank you! xx
I love writing that does this, as Elizabeth says, that seems to be going elsewhere. To do that in a short piece of writing is not easy.
This seems oddly familiar: starting off going one way and I seem to end up elsewhere.
I know how gray those rainy years can be…
Very grey, indeed, Elizabeth. Thank you for stopping by and leaving your comment!
If you could, I would ask you to send us some of the rain, as we need it. I am sure he polished it until it sparkled.
I wish! We went for a drive around Sussex on new year’s day and the flooding of farmland and pastures is horrendous. One year it’s drought, and next we flood.