A hard, mercurial deluge fell
without warning—queerly luminescent;
a coruscating curtain of radiant silver-green,
torrents tinseling the trees

A formidable downpour, abrupt and ferocious
yet fidgety, urgent and anxious –
panting pale plumes like smoker’s breath

the crashes of rain are legion voices of tempest,
a cataclysmic chorus—the voice
of Armageddon whose torrents pound and pry

in a synchronized sound—a crowd
chanting a mélange of lost languages—not
something for a prudent person to witness

this rataplan of argentine raindrops slip and spill
in liquid rhythm, reflecting the glow of witchy light
—Aurora Borealis painting luminous galaxies

Annette Gagliardi
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