The Rain Of Dusk Knob
Poem by (c) Colorofsky
Rising up, looking out, from the top of the knob,
a Wall of Rain, ‘tis seen falling, coming like a Deity, God.
And as it falls, falls on down, to the valley floor,
each Rain Droplet of time, shall be seen nevermore.
Nevermore, nevermore, shall there be this same sight,
nevermore this same picture, this same dusk to same night.
From another new image, other moment to rob,
shall a new Rain of the Valley, be seen from the same knob.
Oh, see that Rain falling down, falling like tears,
Fronting flickering streetlights, then by gutter ‘tis steered.
Finding cracks, little pathways, to run and to run,
on and on, till the clouds break, bring the downpours to none.
By the mailboxes, driveways, to river from stream,
falls the Rain of the Valley, to some aquatic dream.
No, nevermore, nevermore, shall there be this same Rain,
bouncing off of the rooftops, off the windowpanes.
No, nevermore, nevermore, shall drop, the same, same Raindrops,
oh, that same Rain of the Valley, seen, from upon, …Dusk Knob.
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