It's Still Life

Stood There

I stood there
under bare-knuckle
trees,
a final buckling
void to spring.
Stood there
admiring
a white vinyl sky.
Listening
to rain-soothed
birdsong
cutting deep grooves.
Chimes
sung by design.
One tune.
None other.
I stood there,
like a sponge.
Soaked.

The word “plethora” is like two left shoes; it just won’t fit.

Sunday Whirl #335 words for this week are:
one, none, plethora, void, chime, design,
sponge, final, vinyl, song, groove, soothe