I stand underneath the rain,

Mere pelts of due that strike my green

 

Hands out stretched

Like I wish to be taken,

I stare up at the branches

Leaves like odd twinkling bugs staring down at me

 

Mossy Cement beneath toes,

Water on my forehead,

Wash away the salt,

Dried on my cheeks

 

Leaf like flames swarm the dead grass,

A mound or wall

An oddly protecting sensation

 

I feel the earth,

The scent

The touch.

 

Not engulfing me,

No.

Pushing me to let me fly

But keeping me grounded so I not float away

Weighting my toes with  mounds of leaves