Nov 2016
Moments after the rain stops
the sun glistens on things so bad
it hurts to look; and steam lifts off
the roofs and still-deserted streets
like something terrible has just happened.
the sun glistens on things so bad
it hurts to look; and steam lifts off
the roofs and still-deserted streets
like something terrible has just happened.
Written by
William Robert Winslow
431
Alliana Griselle Please log in to view and add comments on poems
