SONNET: Thunder

when thunder sings of desperation, we
decline its touting, booming message, we
unravel rain in clouds above us, we
await its repetition—finally
it cracks in undertow as tigers roar
in jungles brazed in tropic suns; where mist
and noises rise, while here the tempest falls
upon us. clocks along the walls are stuck
as ten:eleven; thunder knows no time;
it only knows its rhythms, meters, lines
that crouch beneath the jungle bushes; lines
that blend into the deepness, waiting; lines
that slice the jungle trees and break the sky:
as tigers' roars and thunder's desperate cry.

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