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Posts Tagged ‘rumble’

on49zwm

I hear a rumble waiting for my meal.
Though I am late for lunch and hunger gnaws,
I’m not the source; my skin does not conceal
The cause. The sound grows louder past each pause.

Outside my window where I sit, the rain
Begins to fall as pellets, then as sheets
Of silver in the darkened skies that drain
Upon the grass and roofs and city streets.

I finish eating in the small café;
The sky’s not fixed the problems with its plumbing.
My next stop is a building on my way –
A tin roof with a hundred drumsticks drumming.

And then I drive into the countryside –
The green trees and the green grass both mist-fogged.
Thus blurred my vision, though eyes opened wide,
For all the world and air is waterlogged.

Against my windshield when my car was still,
The rain was pitter-pattering and kind,
But moving now – splat, splattering until
I am befogged by it and almost blind.

I marvel at its sound and growing size;
The falling bullets burst against my glass.
And then I see their parts and realize
‘Tis hail, not rain, not merely larger mass.

The storm, in all its force, sits over me.
My fellow travelers all slow, pull o’er.
I duck my head, a turtle, and I flee –
The clouds ahead are light, an open door.

And then, there is release, a bit of blue.
Gone is the din, the fearful shattering.
Instead, a mildness like the morning dew –
Much lighter rain, a softer pitter-pattering.

I drive, reflecting on the storm behind
And how it came upon me like a cat
On silent padded paws, a prey to find,
And pounced upon me, and upon me sat.

I saw it for the first time on this day
But recognize that it’s been here before
In clouds of life that thunder, then dismay
As storms that reign until they are no more.

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The photo is by Michalina Piotrowska at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/on49zwM/storm+is+coming

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2019.

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