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"The Storm"

There's something missing in the feel of today.
The air is calm and the sky is plain.
The citizens and animals are not the same.
The grass is still.
Trees look gray.

A hill that's rolling into the sea
Caught the eye of Hector and me.
We chased it down to the Telegraph shore,
My dog arrived twelve seconds before.

We searched the water, but the hill was gone.

Our pale reflections shimmer beyond...

When ripples arrived on the tail of a breeze,
I sat on the rocks and Hector just sneezed.
In a breath that breeze grew into a wind.
And I looked for the cloud where the rain might begin.

An echoing anger filled in the sky,
And a mysterious crackling followed behind.

Ripples, now waves, like the slamming of doors...
Fingers of lightening massaging the shores...
The snapping of branches, stones taking flight
And the ocean turned thick and black as the night.

The sky had vanished into one single shroud,
I stood for as long as my strength would allow.
Pelted and bruised by bullets of hail,
I called to a ship being crushed by its sail.

Helpless and winded, I cursed this black dawn,
And I turned to Hector, but Hector was gone.
Blinded and soaking I ran back to the town,
The life of the storm I would never live down.

Bodies were floating in debris and the ruin
I screamed to the Gods, "What the Hell are you doing?"
I swam to the place where my house used to be,
And there....
Afloat in my chair....
Hector sat laughing at me.

Learn more about this author, Lee Spurrell.
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