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Click hereThe night wears a sombrero tipped jauntily
to cloud moon's eye and quizzically looks down
on mortals who in darkness flee, unfinished
tasks insurmountable for want of any light.
Thunder rolls the carpet down for lightning's
fiery dance, castanets torrid passions beat
until as if to quench the very heart of earth,
torrents discourage carousing gods at play.
Poetry Survivor
Poets Choice Trigger 43