The General
The spring raindrops explode
on my whiskery face
like the flavor bursts
of fresh, cool tomatoes.
The rain comes harder
and I am the weathered general
of an army of tomatoes,
marching, marching.
The spring raindrops explode
on my whiskery face
like the flavor bursts
of fresh, cool tomatoes.
The rain comes harder
and I am the weathered general
of an army of tomatoes,
marching, marching.