the gutters fall in a
steady, quick-time fashion
like beating one's fingers
on a table top at four
beats per second while
a splashing rain hits
the black surface of a
pool top with inch deep
puddles already forming;
metered thoughts wrap
around like syncopated
off-beats with the
increase or decrease
of the rain's tempo,
leaving the audience
wondering when the
next crack of thundered
lightening will strike
the perimeters of our
sacred gazebo location.
28Oct17
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