down the rain

the rain is falling
arrow straight

striking birds
still on the wing

they struggle
in their wish
to fly

an arc described
with raindrops shattering
at each attempt
by wings
to drive

where do they fly
where do they
to go
on such a day
of pouring down

the answers
are fleet
feathers flying
on the wing

and still the rain falls

straight down



© Frank Prem, 2017

December 2017 Poem #33 waltz mote

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