Sound of Rain

Heat lightning flicker flashed

paparazzi in fog drop draped dark

flash bulbs pop thunder

distant and static then

 

Morning rain rhythms

metal merengue

roof rumba

 

Rain is silent as it falls

until

pooling puddle gulp

leaf drip plip

splish splash splosh

at the end of its drop

 

We wait unknowing

the sound we'll make

after our descent

it's echo lasting

long as we are missed

long as we are mist

◄ Everybody is Writing Love Poems so Here's a Country Song.

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Comments

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Mae Foreman

Mon 26th Aug 2019 16:23

Dear Adam, you are a natural! I too have many a time fallen victim of the editing monster, however I like what I read! Kudos🎈
Mae

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Adam Rabinowitz

Sun 25th Aug 2019 15:37

Thank you all for reading. Don, you have probably only read the first half of most of my poems then...they get better in the second half...Ruth, the Pacific Northwest is indeed a rainy clime though lacking the tremendous spectacle of afternoon thunderstorm of my youth in Philadelphia. Kate, I will probably do an audio later but since I describe my voice as Bob Dylan after sucking helium it might not be as sonorous as I hope the poem sounds when read in people's minds with their nicest narrator.

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Ruth O'Reilly

Sun 25th Aug 2019 10:07

Love this line 'metal merengue
roof rumba ' and the idea that when we are no longer here we become Mist! It rains quite a bit where I'm from is it the sane where you are?

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Kate G

Sun 25th Aug 2019 08:45

I feel like this one would-be wonderful read aloud Adam. Definitely evocative.

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Don Matthews

Sun 25th Aug 2019 08:16

Interesting wordplay going on here Adam. I've always worked on the idea that the art of poetry (to me) involves using the rules of poetry to condense what you want to say into as few words as possible. It's not an easy skill. Maybe that's why I like good haiku.

Keep it short and I'll stay with you. Make it too long and I give up halfway.

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Adam Rabinowitz

Sun 25th Aug 2019 07:26

I had a number of ideas I wanted to explore when I started to write it. Not sure many ended up in this draft. A weakness of my work is I don't tend to edit down much...but on this I just kept cutting and cutting...stanzas lines and words...hope what is left is at least evocative if not as fully garnished as is my wont.

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