By Sylvia Marie B. Equio

My mobile phone alarm beeped at 6:22 in a gloomy, rainy morning in Buglas.
No heavy winds, just steady rainfall.
Clouds got thinner and whiter as the rain kept on pouring;
Revealing a sunless sky,
Yet not dimming the daybreak an hour before.

No frogs were croaking,
But the cows were busy mowing the grass over the fence;
Despite the not-so-cheerful weather.
Birds still flew over the horizon,
Never minding the cold wet day.

Dewdrops were plentiful; so full that the colorful roses drooped to its heaviness,
Though the leaves of nearby trees welcomed the downpour;
As it washed out the smog and dust of days past.
Roots above the soil, woodsy in appearance, eagerly drank each falling rain,
from weeklong thirst, and from the harsh, scorching sun.


Popular Posts