The first sign was the flash
that lit your face; the muffled
crash that had us clattering cutlery
on plates; the dash for the car.

You were in the driving seat.  I didn’t know
how you could see the road beneath
the rising tide.  The whining of wipers
left me blind.  Once home,

I ran upstairs to press my nose against
the panes of glass, made circles of steam.
Uprooted seedlings – magenta neon –
painted the sky in shades of bubblegum.

The rain drummed its final solo.
In the held breath of silence that followed
the sky glowed a bruised yellow,
holding me still in a crackling cocoon.

Something crashed to an unseen floor
pounding the boards with fists of rage
so I laid down and prayed
though unsure what for.

3 thoughts on “Storm

  1. Wow that is powerful Carole! There is a great urgency about the beginning. I was sad for the uprooted seedlings, and awed by the magenta neon.

    Loved the “breah of silence” and the “crackling cocoon”. One of your best.


  2. Carole, this is just perfect. I love it.

    You should have submitted this somewhere, not published it here. Are you going to try it in the Mslexia poetry comp? You should. It is very very good.

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