Supposing that the droplets fall once more,
And the orange emblem shimmers once less,
Bluebirds will refuse to eagerly soar,
And incorrectly will the sights progress.
Once accompanied by friends: walks alone.
Feathers that bonded, all fallen apart.
Swallowed from the air are specks of a blue tone,
Flight far gone when puddles form at the heart.
Withering sunflowers mirror the sun,
When the nectar dries and the music fades.
The field feels flooded, the water’s a pun,
Written on paper that rustles with spades.
But perhaps the dragonfly will glitter
As the storm becomes a silent whisper.
