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8
The drumbeat of rhythmic thunder
echoing,
filling empty spaces of the sky
as trees dance to the stormy winds
and baritone sounds of rain
tapping with strange tranquility
In the womb of the room,
the only light is that which
the fading sun left
peeping through the blades
of crack shades
as overhead came a rumbling
as if a cosmic train
was rolling along celestial tracks…
For a moment, all is quiet;
yet, like buttocks, foliage
of young trees
continued their African-like
swaying…wow…
Then suddenly…on beat…everything
stops, and all that’s heard
is the beating of an old aroused heart:
House lights come back on;
the sun peeps back out,
and the TV screen is flooded
with a rolling Weather Alert…
Followed by reports
of another mass shooting
and Taurus droppings from the POTUS.
