The terrible rain
clattering on the tin roof
awakens the barn door
holding in its museum of air
Thunder trembles
opening a slant of light
onto the forgotten hoof beats
that long ago galloped
across the meadows
of the stolen tortured countryside
In the rafters
time hides in an abandoned thread of lace
laconic and agreeable in the serene dust
almost indeed noble
Remembrance caught in metaphor. I especially these two lines in the last verse: 'In the rafters time hides'.
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