Lightning illuminates the evening sky,
We worry as the storm begins to roar,
Large branches explode from limbs, and they fly,
Whipping the roof and rattling the door.
With plants that are uprooted suddenly,
Our furniture is pitched by brutal wind,
Tall trees are faced with their mortality,
On graves of ruptured earth, laid and unpinned,
Where small creatures are running for cover,
On matted ground, their fur is soaked with rain,
To hide in any protected shelter,
Squeezing together all it can contain,
The current at an angle in the air,
Its force, oppressive, as a tyrant’s will.
What more destruction will it bring to bear,
When all must rest thunder is rolling still.
Comments