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Poetry Descriptions Are Pointless |
| A hush. A moment of anticipatory silence- And then the whisper Wind sighing through the meadow The world stands still For a minute, a moment A brief exhalation of ecstasy. A hush. Golden rays touch the green And upturned faces of blooms- A world of emerald be-specked by blue. An orchestra, a symphony An exuberant cacophony Begins in the East. The clouds clothe the brilliant sky in modesty Coming to battle the golden day With their tumbling, roiling, deep dark gray. A clash of white and gray, blue and gold Their battle rages, the sky is torn Their wounds bleed down to the meadow below, A shimmering, hazy veil It showers the thirsty ground. A field of diamonds, of glittering gems, And then the quiet, whispering sound, A hush. --5/3/2017 |