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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