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The Advent Of Monsoon (Free verse) by anitawit

The sky darkens and lowers its brow Its brilliant blue overcast by a heavy opacity, The ultramarine hills on the horizon Change colour like a chameleon To grey and still lighter grey, Till they gradually melt away into the dull nebulae That descend like a brooding mantle On the face of the earth, Yellow sunshine withdraws Its slender fingers and surrenders To an ominous white That claws at my open door with slow viscous prodding, And the first rains dribble silently at my window.

<~> 2-Jan-03/9:15 PM
very evocative and viceral.

in your last line, perhaps the rains could touch/tap at/strum your window (any action as performed by a hand, as that is the metaphor you establish in the line before it)




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