Night Storm

 

Like chopped Harleys

Coming over the ridge

In an endless exploding

Rumble of thunder on

The ground, the storm

Pounded the night with

Bone shaking noise and

Arc spitting light that

Set sirens singing and

Men in rubber boots

Dragging hoses into

 The darkness and fright,

In that moment before

Morning, earthworms with

Teacups and saucers

Scooping up every last

Drop of water before

The robins popped

Into the day.

 

Stephen Nesbitt ©

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