It's Still Life

An Untitled Prose Sonnet           (for those using visual assistant/speech software)

Rain divided the day in half. I usually write in the morning but I spent it
idle, wandering wordless. You mowed the rug-thick grass, that robin
following behind you, and you laughed at its flitty chirp, as it pulled
over-fat worms from the earth.

Lunch was sourdough and smooth pate, and as I washed up the dishes,
rain began to fall. Drops like weighted beads on fringe, leaves trembling
in shadows deep as twilight.  I stood by the window, and watched clouds
slide together, recoupling like two lost lovers.

I was reading the newspaper, the sound of rain steady and soft. A steaming
cup of tea waiting for me on the table. And somewhere between paragraphs
and troubles, I nodded off. Woke to lightning strikes the colour of sulphur.
The clock in the hallway struck 2 bells.

I swept the sleep from my thoughts,
and wrote in the afternoon for a change.

For @Miz_Quickly on Twitter/ Miz Quickly on WordPress. A prose sonnet. Rain. Shared with @Experimentsinfc #APoemADay on Twitter   ©Misky 2021