For today’s prompt, write an abundance poem.
There Will Come Soft Rains
The hills are erupting gold
an abundance of green
covering winter’s grays
Spring coats the pavement
with a fine chartreuse dust
irritating the corners of my eyes
January could not quite sterilize
and life is infecting the land
like mold on neglected cheese
Imagine a peaceful world
of stolid rock and clean water
of pristine sands and tides
of soft rain filling rivers
pure for nothing alive to drink
(Title stolen from Sara Teasdale who did it better.)
Bartholomew Barker, Poet 
Prophetic ….
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But we’ll never know if it comes to pass.
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Do we want to know?
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That’s one of the biggest frustrations I have with being human, I won’t know how our story ends, whether we go out with a bang or a whimper.
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Perhaps neither – one can only hope that by that time, the human race has some options other than extinction.
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Wonderful treat.
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Thank you.
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Bart,
Love the way narrator is reading the details in nature and projecting about how that will continue. A couple of tiny nits, I think you meant infected instead of infecting, did you mean stolid rock? or solid rock?. I would end at after nothing. The wording is a little awkward there at the end.
Hope any of that helps
On Thu, Apr 7, 2022 at 4:30 PM Bartholomew Barker, Poet wrote:
> Bartholomew Barker posted: ” For today’s prompt, write an abundance poem. > There Will Come Soft Rains The hills are erupting goldan abundance of > greencovering winter’s grays Spring coats the pavementwith a fine > chartreuse dustirritating the corners of my eyes January ” >
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Thanks for the review. “Stolid” was intentional.
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