The tepid calmness beneath the somber shroud
Pregnant with a promise of violent storm
The preceding silence is intensely loud
Still and stagnant, like a painting in the dorm
Ships return, seagulls take refuge at the coast
In those darkened hours barely before the storm
And then the gusts taste of thunder, roar
and boast
Blizzards twist and twirl the weather-vanes
about
Deafening howls resound from pits
nethermost
A chaos reigns within, a chaos, without.
Until a sliver of hope is tossed about.
 |
| Courtesy: Louise, with The Storyteller's Abode |
Linking with Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers
