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      February 11, 2017Abigail Rose CargoApril Rain

      The rain stains almost everything darker.
      Somehow, leaves seem to get brighter,
      as wood and pine straw are slowly dampened.
      Rain makes the sky darker too,
      and it is the most wonderful privilege
      to stay in bed a few extra minutes,
      as shadows of morning blend with
      the grey lining of sky. The metal roof
      slanting below my screen-less window
      magnifies the sound of fat drops of water
      sliding off the shingles above me. It is cool for April,
      but we sometimes have the biggest snows in spring.
      The trees outside are very tolerant of rain,
      if you look closely, an occasional leaf will flutter
      from the weight of water. My window is cracked open,
      so that if I want to, I can stick my hand out,
      and catch a few drops in the wrinkles of my palm.
      I wouldn’t suck the water, it came from the roof
      and who knows what happens up there?
      Perhaps it is a midnight meeting place for owls.
      It isn’t impossible, you know, not impossible at all.

      from 2017 RYPA

      Abigail Rose Cargo (age 13)

      Why do you like to write poetry?

      “I like to write poetry because it comes naturally. When I sit down to write, I coordinate different memories and images inside my head, and they come together to form poems.”