The clouds’ applause trembles air to feet of twitching;
“You Know What To Do,” they mumble-grumble/strike to me.
“Yeah, yeah— You really are persuasive, y’know?
You don’t have to answer that.”
A conversation ‘mongst the towers unseen for shelter’s shelter
rages in calm, tapping showers brought and bringing
sense to edge of cliff a’bashed with ever-tidal tidings
of sweetest elements’ harmonies.
Another shift of light to shadow
and lifted these thoughts grow to growth of storm beside and surrounding
with such shatter-chatter, rasp-throated moans!
Tumbling, these voices grown from sound to flicker
broke and break the gentle cycling of the rain–
the falling air left/right/straight/back in constant, uncertain lickings of the eyes
as though to show the fury is
but known/dependent on the travelled-travelling breath of all.