Storm


The rumbling echoes
Through the town
Like a distant train.

As if there is a fan,
Swaying the trees,
Back and forth and all around.

The yellow beams flicker
Through the dark,
Lighting up like fireworks.

A black eye forming above
As teardrops fall,
Composing a lake as they hit the ground.

There's not a soul in sight
And for a moment
The world becomes still.

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