Poem 5

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It was going to rain.

The weather forecast didn't say that, but the steel plate in his hip did. He had
learned over the years to trust his hip over the weatherman. It was going to rain, so he better get
outside and prepare.

The tree missed the days the kids used to come by and play. It still wore the tire swing the kids had put
up in its branches years ago although both the tire and the rope had seen better days. The tree had
watched all the kids in the neighborhood grow up and leave, and it wondered if there would ever be a
time when another child played and laughed again under its branches. That was the hope that the tree
wished every day as the swing gently swung empty in the wind.

Why do Americans have so many different types of towels? We have beach towels, hand towels, bath
towels, dish towels, camping towels, quick-dry towels, and let’s not forget paper towels. Would 1 type
of towel work for each of these things? Let’s take a beach towel. It can be used to dry your hands and
body with no difficulty. A beach towel could be used to dry dishes. Just think how many dishes you could
dry with one beach towel. I’ve used a beach towel with no adverse effects while camping. If you buy a
thin beach towel it can dry quickly too. I’d probably cut up a beach towel to wipe down counters or for
cleaning other items, but a full beach towel could be used too. Is having so many types of towels an
extravagant luxury that Americans enjoy or is it necessary? I’d say it's overkill and we could cut down on
the many types of towels that manufacturers deem necessary.

It was cloudy outside but not really raining. There was a light sprinkle at most and there certainly wasn't
a need for an umbrella. This hadn't stopped Sarah from pulling her umbrella out and opening it. It had
nothing to do with the weather or the potential rain later that day. Sarah used the umbrella to hide.

The red line moved across the page. With each millimeter it advanced forward, something changed in
the room. The actual change taking place was difficult to perceive, but the change was real. The red line
continued relentlessly across the page and the room would never be the same.

All he wanted was a candy bar. It didn't seem like a difficult request to comprehend, but the clerk
remained frozen and didn't seem to want to honor the request. It might have had something to do with
the gun pointed at his face.

He dropped the ball. While most people would think that this was a metaphor of some type, in Joe's
case it was absolutely literal. He had hopes of reaching the Major League and that dream was now it
great jeopardy. All because he had dropped the ball.

Barbara had been waiting at the table for twenty minutes. it had been twenty long and excruciating
minutes. David had promised that he would be on time today. He never was, but he had promised this
one time. She had made him repeat the promise multiple times over the last week until she'd believed
his promise. Now she was paying the price.

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