Best heard alone in the silence
of blackness pre-dawn.
The hall, redolent of memories,
lighted by a single bulb-
log walls fashioned from old larch;
a metal roof above.
The orchestra of rain, wind.
Initially a hesitant patter;
Almost individual drops, far away, distant,
then the building crescendo of speed and intensity.
Becoming a persistent cadence
accompanied by the gurgle
of the gutter as the rain courses through it
to splash and echo on the rocks below.
Then decrescendo of sound as the rain
retreats to the darkness from whence it came.
Finally, the coda:
Intermittent, hesitant sprinkle of drops
punctuating the silence.
December 30, 2021
Copyright © David Holmes | Year Posted 2021