Poem: The storm


The storm began suddenly.

Eager trees swayed at the shoulders

skeletal but never menacing.

Heavy grey sheet draped across the

rooftops, trapping the wind as it

raced through the streets

obeying the solidity of buildings

but leading branches and leaves in

a primal dance.

The rain joined in, carousing

with a howl

hips quivering and arms wild

an increasing tempo


and then calm.

The trees sighed.

Someone pulls the grey sheet away

receding lip of the tide

to reveal the sky in perfect clarity

dark depths of the universe and

pinpoints of white

and that glowing spectre

like a god smiling

at the whims of the earth.