Motorway Poem by keith brown

Motorway



It's raining hard,
the roads awash.
The sky is dirty grey.
Like driving through a tidal wave as
trucks throw up their spray: Still it pours
Without a stop
For
Safety we all pray
As blades slide over windscreen glass,
I swear I heard them say
It's
Raining! Raining! Raining!

Wednesday, May 6, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: rain
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