Quadrille 57

I slid my hand inside the rain
To feel how smooth and sparked
Under hushed grey cloth

It unzipped,
My fingers parting drops
Like brushing open
A dress of silk

That first blush of cool
Late in the evening
Clouds slipping off
Their sunsets

 

 

For dVerse Quadrille

43 thoughts on “Quadrille 57

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