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poem: wanderlust rain

  • March 15, 2022

Rain.

Skylight quavers between the shimmery notes.

And blots and bolts.

Wisps of cotton strengthen their sticky webs on blemished pebbles 

Sprawl on the nose of a smooth sleek boulder

The current swooshes through, narrowly knocking off the straggler on the wayward leaf

its edges crumpled and stained with dark tips from the sun’s blushes

The ladybug stretches its broken limbs, unfurling and collapsing, flat

Its imbedded dabs of white shook indignantly

Bubbles burst and pop in syncopation

pop. pop!. pop…

A swell of anger bellows from the mouth of Achelous

A flicker of gold, the flash of Hercules

his heart cascades from flesh to stone,

Tumbling, tinkling, the cracks of merry thousands

shattering

into hateful grim

The river booms and groans

rocks squeezes and begs for mercy

the trees fall and waterfalls of dust and sandy dirt collapse into the now soiled river

Water

it swallows the musty drenched sides

Of the empty canal

dead bodies in the river 

Boots pummel the river banks

Whose surfaces were waxed with brittle yellow grass

The bodies strewn about like grey flowers

broken cement in the river

Etchings of rubbed-away whispers 

reminders of love, prophecy, and the Beyond

Her fist hugs a sprig as her arm support the stone slab of lists

She hurls it, hair whipping, legs flailing 

into the stone cold river

the girl turns and trudges onward

the healing had come, 

Drenched in fluttering sandals and a snake-stick

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