Poetry

Rain Rich July End

Rain rich July end

My red Fiat Punto under the clouds,

I sit listening to the rain drops pattering on  car roof,

The patter has no pattern

It had always been music to my ears

Like childhood music

The patter patter, the patter patter

The patter patter years,

Association of metal and water,

All the trees in the lane,

All the mane in the trees

Do not  change the notes

Which make this number patter patter,

Patter patter I sit listening to

The raindrops

My red fiat Punto under the clouds make,

This wet July end.

                                                           

~Saranyan BV

Bangalore, India

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