From the poet’s dictionary
noun \ˈpis-tən\
a sound like a fist, like rain,
like fat drops on hardpan,
like a screen door flapping,
like gasoiline on skin,
like burning sand,
like the smell of coal ash
at ten below zero,
like a stain in the heart
that cannot be removed,
like every slamming, crushing,
fierce and mortal thing
that cannot be undone,
except by love.
See also grief.
exiles child 
Realer than real imagery. A delight to read and re-read.
Thanks, Elaine. This one almost wrote itself. I was just sitting around thinking what an onomatopoeic name for an object. It’s the closest thing to an imagist poem I’ve written, at least in a while.