The best part isn’t
the rain, nor
the way it latches onto my windshield
in big luscious drops.
The best part is not
the lightning.
Striking like a cultist group
around me – ready for sacrifice.
And not the size of this storm:
threatening.
Most certainly is
not my hands
slapping the steering wheel,
in my usual fashion.
Not the waves of splash
back from oncoming trucks.
The best part
is when the thunder
and the band
hit the bridge
in unison.
As always people, comments are welcome. Fire away.
2 comments:
I'd get rid of the misused semicolon in line 3 and fix the misspelled lightning in line 6. And I think the band should have more presence in the poem than just in the title. My gut says the poem should be all about sound—and the bridge should be both musical and physical at the end. (I.e., you should be heading for the bridge at the beginning of the poem...)
Stray thoughts...
Thanks for the comments Joe. I don't know if I am going to work this one again. It was a good idea, I thought, when I first had it - but just didn't come out right. At any rate, I think I will let this poem sit for a while before I come back to it.
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