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another poem about the rain

May 25, 2011

hesitant, at first (although pre-announced by thunder)

a pattering smattering, then a bucketing thucketing

and crash baroooooom, an ocean of sssshhhh wwwooossshhh

wall of sound, highest treble to distant lowest bass

cheered on by thunder with lightning’s applause, easing then surging.

the nightrain falls harder, thicker.  it becomes the world.

is every raindrop different, like every snowflake?   do they like where they fall?  do they prefer the clouds to the puddles?   each raindrop citizen with its own preferences… heading for a river somewhere… each raindrop has its chance to disappear into the darkness while no one is looking, to change its life, to trickle into a long forgotten stream and find its way to the extremes of ice and steam (Iceland?  Steamland?).

intensity eases almost without being noticed,

as if the rain gods, easily distracted,

see new places to visit

and wander off in mid-conversation, tapering off without farewell

the last of the volunteers falling to Earth

ready for reincarnation

wherever in tarnation

that turns out to be.

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