The Kid Writes Again

Here is the Kid's poem. It's been raining here for three days. She went out in her pink rubber shoes and her rain coat in the freezing rain on Saurday and came back in with this poem.

And Down They Fall

Flops drops the size
Of bowling balls are
Falling down

Where the squirrels
Once played in all their trees
I'm the only one who dares to
Go outside.

The only refuge from
The rain a piece of moss which overlooks
a river on which bank I step.

The only way to cross without the moss
A bridge of acorns and of sticks.

As I look upon my own driveway
I imagine a land where
It is not raining, where clouds are
not exploding down
upon us and
down they fall and
down they fall.


She tells me that her influence was "that guy you read me, you know, wrestling with my God, my god?"

Hopkins. She's writing in the style of Gerard Manley Hopkins.