Without Television

A soft rain is falling,
Giving back up to Bruce Hornsby
Who comes through the speakers
Singing a live version of “Mandolin Rain.”

I’m sitting washed in the sounds
Of great performances,
Natural and man made,
Just glad for this peaceful moment.

The burden of moving removed and
The annoyance of a head cold passing
Has allowed me to take in the patter and
To “listen to the tears roll.”

There’s soup on the stove
Waiting for the cooler temperatures
Pushing the rain along.
I’m going to enjoy them too.

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