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Weather

By Janet Childs


this day, my eyes tear up

I know those whispering voices

against the leaden sky

I catch my breath-

my heartbeat a metronome.

The silence is catapulted

across the arc of air and light:

Thunder beings dance;

shattering the fluffy of clouds,

swirling the atmosphere,

curving it to rain.

The parched ground opens its pores;

drinks deep.

Gulps what it has been dreaming.

Holds dear this sheet of water;

becomes a lullaby, a song, a declaration

of this life continuing

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