2232015-0825

Rain in my hair,
doesnt look like diamonds,
I am no lost lamb,
soaked to the bone.

No selkie maiden,
come ashore,
hidden in the storm,
dancing in the cove.

My eyes do not reflect the sea,
blue and green,
but blue-grey and
flecks of green and a spot of citrine.

But, I'm not the pitted moon,
no craters on my visage,
and no blemish more than norm,
recreate god in my image.

A walk in the park, is no easy feat,
and an uphill battle,
is a panic as the tires cut out.
traction doesnt exist on a rainy road, uphill.