Page 30 - Contrast1958Winterv3n1
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and felt the soft, warm ram. I ran on until I could run no longer;
then I happily pattered back to my home.
That day, perhaps, I discovered a new world of adventures, a
rain which brought a happy solemnness for a short while to my child-
hood. When I first thought of this as I grew older I learned a verse
to describe my feelings ...
How strange that where the torrents sing
Silence has her deepest springs
That where the restless waters flow
The silent heart content may know.
But now my thoughts and delights as a child have faded, and only on
empty rainy days do I know what this verse means.
STORM
The birds scream out, warning, scurrying.
The small animals look for protection,
The trees become silent, awaiting
The onslaught and fury, patiently.
And man continues blindly, not
Realizing.
The sky parts with lightning, flashing.
The thunder rides overhead, grumbling.
The wind moans in protest, sighing.
And man continues blindly, not
Realizing.
The creatures cower in dens, trembling.
The trees bend their trunks, obeying.
The storm gathers in strength, lashing.
And man continues blindly, not
Realizing.
The fury decreases, withdrawing.
The animals leave their dens, emerging
Into the bright light, blinking.
And man continues blindly, not
Realizing.
JOANNE TRABUCCO
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