Falling to the ground, I watch her drink as the birds sings alongside
The dropping
Tiny pin pricks, or a flood, the tapping on everything, a drop, or a river.
The serenity of a visitor with her hat pulled down over her face she smiles and whispers as she waves her cape
It brushes over the land, blots out the light to feed the beautiful life
She tells of things seen, watched from so far above, the frustration the sadness the beauty the love.
The visitor draws close and whispers one more thing seen, just the view from around and the places unseen.
The twitter of the birds and the drops of the blue on the green.
This one sounds like a drill Sargeant giving orders.
Perhaps it was his wedding day, he sounds very put out.
Elucidating Questions 
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