Author: Caitir PM
How does the air feel before it rains? What does the sky do while it rains? And what can ruin that clean feeling afterwards? Here are three poems expressing what I think...Rated: Fiction K - English - Words: 210 - Reviews: 14 - Published: 06-30-03 - id: 1344207
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It was raining this afternoon, so I took an old poem (the last one) and added two more to it. Should I have left it alone? Do you like the other two better? Please tell me!
Blue grows grey as though it aged
A hundred years in a minute.
The air waits, its nerves on end,
Expecting to be broken any moment-
Charged and filled and whirled
In some ancient dance.
And the air waits.
Fat drops spill,
Like the tears of a child,
With tiny explosions
Over cement, steel, brick, and mud-
One by one slowly.
And then the sky exploded.
Noise and light and water
Pouring from heaven
To bless some.
The earth is cleansed
And all is fresh and new
I can almost see the flowers grow
After the thunder.
The drama, clashes of the white-haired,
Bushy bearded sky kings,
As they throw their bolts of light and shout
Making the thunder.
I see fresh green in all
The grass, the trees, the shrubs,
The weeds sprung up in my garden bed
Clean from the thunder.
I close my eyes to breathe in spring's fresh scent,
And catch instead steel, road, and gasoline
From the metal menace cruising down my street.
I liked the thunder.