Incessant
rain. Like a nagging child. Like the pricking of the thorns of jealousy.
Angry words pouring like a thin film of white all night long. Maybe
God's scorn, swear words in thunder and lightning embellishing the abuse
of water on earth. Trees assaulted, slums mocked. Some distant
Beethoven crawling out of windows- the notes made more poignant, sharp,
sad by the rain drops on asbestos, on muddy lanes, on tarpaulin
protected beggars. A poet hunting for words rests awhile. The rain and
the wind howling outside- like Nature mourning some dire calamity. Add
to it, the swaying of the trees and you have souls exposed to a death in
the family. A first death, hence sharper pain. Pain...burning,
torturing, liberating Pain.
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