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Click here"Dishonest thunderstorms will smoothly wash the burning radio."
Mama blocks our view outside the house
The Thunderstorms roll loudly toward us
we want to play in the rain we hear coming
Papa screams No! No! and we hear a smashing sound.
I burst past Mama and see Papa
on the ground holding our radio all broken now
as the soldiers laugh and smash
our music, our news. our link to the world
and then the fires started
and the Thunderstorm smoothly rolls away.
.
this moves so well / the visions are crystal clear / very well-written /
The brevity of this poem is powerful, though I place it, through my imagination, into a more contemporary context. I like the use of natural elements, and the juxtaposition between the natural rain/thunderstorms and the man made, fire, which on a symbolic level do more for me than I can possibly articulate here.
the memories of the blitzkrieg from your words Boo. You too strike quickly and with power.
*no thermometer
there's an honesty and naturalness in your words that always lifts up your poems, gf. You did it again. xo, Ange