Thunder roars and everybody runs indoors,
except for one sitting in a tree,
catching hailstones that are
too dense, too dented,
too damaged to be snowflakes,
and holding them in soft, buttery hands,
so rain can water earth
like tears flowing from my eyes,
as there is someone
who lights a spark.
Anthea Dinh-Tram is an emerging writer from Sydney, Australia. She hopes readers enjoy her work and thanks them for reading. Follow her on Twitter @antheadinh_tram.