Updated: Jun 11
By Melanie Faith Haggard-Strange
I sit in a place where banana leaves sing a lullaby synchronized with jitterbug rain.
A tickle spatter swishing down, leaves wash anew as feather winds bow willowy branches.
The sky shudders, its tears hit softened mud.
Bursting bubbles spit up gleefully and in kin with earth’s soft skin.
A cacophony of cadences kiss twilight’s final breath.
Darkness takes space.
Nightingale decrees the finish of day.