Poem in your Pocket Day

Storm Ending

Thunder blossoms gorgeously above our heads,
Great, hollow, bell-like flowers,
Rumbling in the wind,
Stretching clappers to strike our ears . . .
Full-lipped flowers
Bitten by the sun
Bleeding rain
Dripping rain like golden honey—
And the sweet earth flying from the thunder.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Trump Apocalypse?

Maternal Mortality

Tone and Diction in the National Conversation