The Storm
by Miranda Hawkins

 

This was a journal entry last year for my second college Creative Writing class.

 

Light crackles across the rolling skies
Illumination, then. . . nothing.
Thunder bubbles slowly before releasing it's rage to the heavens
Swiftly and intensely,
Hitting with the impact of a balled-up fist

 

* * * *

 

Staring at the familiar hand
Which knocked her to the ground,
Tears splash down her stained cheeks.
Through blurry vision, she cringes away
From the man she thought she knew,
Trembling like a rain-pelted leaf.
Raising his palm, he strikes her again.

 

* * * *

 

Swaying fiercely in the wind,
Leafless trees cling to muddy ground,
Determined to stay aloft
Through the fury of the storm.
A crack of thunder, brutal flash of light;
Both lead to revelation.
One tree felled, while another stands.
Steam rises from the earth
As the storm abates
Leaving grey, empty skies.

 

* * * *

 

Smoke wafts delicately
From the gleaming gun
Which has left his eyes grey and empty.
Blood runs in thick rivulets,
Puddling at her feet
Like rain after a storm.

 

 

All poetry, stories, etc. ©2000 Miranda J. Hawkins. All rights reserved

 

 

 

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