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“Sonnet of the Sound”

I hear a wind a’whistling through my door.
The result is nothing special: when it rains it pours.

I listen as I see the water fall…. Dampness is the dream
where light hides its shiniest truth:
A rainbow, all stirred up in song
Like David used to sing to please the LORD.

Sound off, one, two, three, four…

I hear a wind a’whistling through my door.
Underneath is a wet floor; the heat has risen,
the sound has been stirred up,
A stoked fire against the cold and precipitating rain
finds its way through the shade of cloud
to give us one more time in circular repetition:
Flowers.

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