Rhyme

Each vase filled to the brim with grain

A young boy plays at dodging the rain

Nothing is left for the babysitter to do

A bitter truth learned on lazy days like this

Related to the scent of jasmin

Mixed with sound of salmon frying

In the next room. Mother returned already

He begs her not to leave again, prays that she stays

He listens to gentle voice as oil glistens on the pan

and some shoots out making way toward

steel canals of sink, her regal eyes imparting wisdom

That he was not ready, nor wanted to hear

The rain starts to subside, he returns to yard

A mini bird has perched on the stump he likes to sit on

It's feathery brest is white in afternoon light

And a half circle appears in last rain-drops

Purple and red and yellow and bright.