Downfall

violets, black and white
Downfall The holly just trimmed back, some of the hostas visible, the daffodils still bright yellow but drooping, the rain began. A month’s worth of rain in three days. The dogs and I sat by the window watching spring pass, the house quiet enough to hear the rain patter. Now outside in the rain, the dogs race to mark trees while I pull holly clippings off the violets. I find the shears I’d dropped in my rush to escape the rain, rusting atop the muted wet leaves and dark matter.

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