before crescendo


the raindrops dance
to the rattled tin sound
of thunder

the clouds in flight
are waving

bye bye





the rain is dancing
faster now

the thunder
is a grey tin fence
right beside me

right above me

someone beating it
with a stick
I think

the clouds are fleeing
before crescendo comes

a fence crescendo


it’s raining now

© Frank Prem, 2017

October 2017 Poem #39: above

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