it's Weathering the Storm

black rain is falling,

crashing through trees and onto

stone tablets: drum beats.

 

the thunder is clapping,

but the lightning stretches out

empty hands alone.

 

wind is a whistle,

streaming through reeds and through grass,

brittle melodies.

 

the sky is all clouds,

canopies of white, gray, black:

blanket from the cold.

 

the sun is distant,

reaching slim shining fingers

to the ground: searching.

 

The End

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