Chimène Cricket
The Storm
- The dark heavy rumble of the impending storm
- shook the very ground where I stood.
- I could see it there, rearing up,
- unbridled,
- ready to gallop across the sky and trample me
- beneath its lightning-laced hooves.
- Danger was in its voice...
- a terrible captain,
- swearing allegiance to the fierce wind before the battle.
- "Unleash Hell!", it cried.
- The hammer of Thor itself could not bring such harsh assault
- upon the ears and eyes of those watching,
- transfixed on the battle between the earth and clouds.
- The trees kissed the ground in their death songs
- while the icy hell fire poured forth from the spreading blackness.
- The back draft of wind threatened to lift me from the blood-stained dirt
- to deposit me miles from my dwelling.
- A chill ran along my spine, bristling the
- hair of my neckline. Electricity filled the air
- The face of nature tortured me with its angry taunts
- only to march away to its next conquest.
- It leaves behind many bodies.
- Simple broken lives are left to clean and forget
- until the next comes along the horizon.