The art of making it rain, I learned from my father. That I am here to explain, I learned from my mother.
July Rain
Dying is such old work — I settle the dust in our yard with a hose.
Poems, Slightly Used, July 5, 2009
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Categories: Poems, Slightly Used
Tags: Alzheimer’s Disease, Art, Death, Haiku, Memory, My Father, My Mother, Our Old Farm, Pain, Poems, Poetry, Rain, Writing
William Michaelian 