Monday, August 10, 2009

the storm


Andrew showers as the storm approaches
(impervious to my worrywart bewares)
while I sit crouched in darkness
nose to the window watching
the lightning – constant, flickering
like old light bulbs       shifting
the shadows at the corner of my eye
it reaches with skeletal fingers
across the sky

just as I grow used to the thunder
growling low in its throat       loud
and persistent as the clacking wheels of a long train
a roar and a quick flash of light
like the shine of cats’ eyes
flings me back in spasms
and into the bathroom with Andrew

you’d better get out! I cry
that storm is here!

1 comment:

Dorkmaster Flek said...

I wasn't worried during most the storm, but even I have to admit that one big crack gave me a startle. :)