Thursday, December 24, 2020

A Quiet Storm

Subtleties that bake and boil

Smoldering under a noonday sun,

Never quite erupting into

Molten fire and lava,

 

Never billowing the skies

With fiery ash and fever.

Never raging, ravaging

In naked holocaust.

 

Most content to view events

With quiet desperation,

Riding out the mounting waves

That crash against the shores.

 

Lifting up her chin against

A wall of rain torrential

More intent on what was won

Than what she might have lost.

 

Let the storm pass – as it will –

Let Hades dissipate.

The gold that lies at rainbows end

Is surely worth the wait.

 Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin

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