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S S May 2016
Poor tip-ity tap-ity raindrops
Mapping out uncharted fields
Crystal buds take shape and flop
Cruising down my windshield

Mapping out uncharted fields
Drops stumble, slide, glide into place
Cruising down my windshield
Dance to their own song, own pace

Drops stumble, slide, glide into place
While shimmering red turns to green
Dance to their own song, own pace
Brash wipers erase this playful scene

While shimmering red turns to green
Crystal buds take shape and flop
Brash wipers erase this playful scene
Poor tip-ity tap-ity raindrops.
Waiting at the lights on a rainy day.

First attempt at a pantoum: lines 1234, 2546, 5768, 7381.
  May 2016 S S
GaryFairy
living life like a photograph
I am captured in that moment
a record of images of the past
the black and white of atonement

the negatives scroll through my mind
by now, I guess I get the picture
a flash frame from that place in time
on this wall, I am a fixture

living life like a photograph
it's on my wall, then I own it
a snapshot of images of the past
a still frame of atonement
I haven't been very active here, because i am trying to enjoy the springtime. I am about to camp for a couple of months. I doubt that i will have phone service, but i will be logging on occasionally. Very glad to see the in-flux of new poets here. Keep on writing!
  May 2016 S S
ryn
.
•my
arms point
to the sky•
a gesture
                           frozen in                 eter-
                                 nity•un-                fazed as
                                   the clouds                whisper a
        lie•                 rumours of                 rain that
  never               came quickly•            prickles
protrude             menacingly            •threaten-
ing all who          would stray         too close•      
baseless            gossip that   masquerade    
as pleasant-   ry•to deviate me from      
the path i chose•still i stand            
here...duelling the sun          
•in a land scorched            
barren•search-  
ing for hope
when there's 
really none•
here i stand...
lonely and
drought
stricken•
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
­••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
.
Concrete Poem 11 of 30

Tap on the hashtag "30daysofconcrete" below to view more offerings in the series. :)
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S S May 2016
Cumulonimbus
Growls above menacingly
Snarls at the terrene

Impaled by lightning
Howls in anguish, pierced and split
Bleeds thick drops of rain
Poor cumulonimbus...so transiently ominous.
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