Thursday, August 6, 2009

March 29, 2009

The thunder i thought I heard
is nothing more than a passing plane
and the storm I hoped for is still
patient in the wings.

Perhaps I can coax him onto stage
with a short prologue about precipitation
or a well-written intorduction
from the chorus.

Maybe the old Broadway hook can
pull him from his cloudy dressing room

assuming his thunderous vocal warm-ups
have made him miss his cue.

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