The sky
cracks
A company of drops
as if cataracts
shave
curtain the horizons
stones
to ice. Some
still promising their
shimmering
awakes
aubades, morning
night’s
withdrawing
songs gone awry
reverberations below
diminishing
of
storm clouds flecks of
sound.
shot
off, like ‘Shhhhhhhhhh
a
table cloth hhhhhhhhhhh
inexpertly
deprived hhhhhhhhhhh’ –
of
its surface. Dimmening leaves offer.
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