Washed Out

Warning touch and growing rumble
Feel it building coming coming

Welcome respite or call for shelter?
Jarring one from settled niche

These drops intruders in our day
… A sigh a chuckle as we retreat?

What do they say of grief or toil
As waters surge and tumble by?

Pale countenance sinking down
Or head uplifted to cool embrace?

Built up dirt and grime release
Muddy churning wash away!

Letting it go, now light and free
Cleansing. Revealing… sparkling stones

Charlotte-Anne Allen