It's Still Life

Where the Rain Falls

Up there on the north side
of the house where moss clings
emerald thick on the roof tiles,

and where the grey lead gutters
broaden into thirsty throats for rain
and sag from the pressing years,

I found a rebellious daisy growing.

Poem form: A Sevenling. ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting on Twitter