A Quiet Choice
The storm is yet a distance,
vocals still at zero, naught--
though lightning does appear;
and like my ear was *****
I tilt to listen...then hearing nothing,
resign to glisten;
Silence can be a messenger;
here light a pigeon carrier,
waking with stirring charges
cold articulate within--carrion of a harmony
city grating long left dumb.
Vivid flashes now make clear
all clouds no slivered linings;
as monstrous canons
would interfere--
shoot them splattering down--
but storm seems lost
its rolling-tongue;
or, perhaps--a higher-power reconsidered;
deciding if riotous voice
that every tingly cochlea-body
when thundered
will have a quiet choice.
Sponsor: Brenda Chiri
Contest Name: Describe a thunder storm without the sense of sound
Copyright © Joe Dimino | Year Posted 2018
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