Poems and Prose #53 - Olympic

The deities giggle,
thunderclaps echoing,
as the tree-dotted plains
sporadically brighten,
then fade to darkness.

Even as they stand
up here,
gleaming,
heavy crowns
atop their heads,
the clouds don't
sag an inch,
and the raindrops fall,
or don't,
regardless of where
their mighty hands wave.