Rybakova Irina |
Rain on a Cottage Roof
From within
Slight rain seems to purr;
A heavier shower murmur,
As bees hum.
Huge hands pummel and knead
The roof under
Thunder's indigo stampede.
Rain hoofs thrum.
Now hear the house become
A drum.
Freda Laughton
That phrase, "now hear the house", sticks.
Why it happens that specific words in a certain order take on something more than just the usual weight of meaning - I don't know.
I like this poem, but those three words are alive.
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