Tropic - Poem by Judith Kazantzis
Rain sounds out the wood and tin
in a matter of seconds,
elucidates the outline thoroughly,
makes a mouth-organ:
wood walls, tin roof, porch,
slinking, banging, creaking, patting.
You and I in parallel
lightly are breathing bedfellows
inside this water and house patter,
inside this long elucidation.
I think it's a hundred quiet years
since we kissed and we fell asleep.
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