first the sky grows dark
obsidian black, like the backs of deep shadows
then the thunder comes
an angry train that does not slow for town
i sit stonefaced, wind all around
watching leaves whip past
fallen memories
then the lightning strikes
fire on stone, sparks like the fourth of july
the rain pours down
brilliant waterfalls from moon beam caves
we part ways in storms
words fall on deaf ears
of memories
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very interesting and creative. I enjoyed it.