All night the rain meanders fast
Along the pane that tests the storm.
The nervy stars refuse the frame.
The water snatched from heaving boughs
In gusty whips before they’re ripe
And thrown to warp and glaze the eye
That’s darker than the night outside.
All this appears to teeter on
The lightning in the vacuum bulb
Which if set to glow I fear
I would give the storm a fright
And set it on another course
One without the scrutiny of glass.
stanzapoet 