But enough with the depressing stuff. April is National Poetry Month, and though I haven't written any new poetry in a great long while, it's a reminder that progress in writing doesn't have to mean a new chapter in the novel or a finished short story -- it can be as simple as a poem.
Below is one I wrote in 2005, with a couple of revisions since then. It's especially relevant, since Arkansas's usual wild and rowdy spring storms are on their way, maybe even today.
Indomitablelightning threads fire in the west.Metal tangs dusty air,
and devils dance—
Green sky looms,
thunder threatens—
gorged black clouds oppress the light.
Fire stabs, scattering
the blood of clouds—
fat warm drops blessing my face.
Trees bow before the wind
but I stand, arms outspread,
welcoming the storm.
c. 2005, KB
2 comments:
I rode my motorcycle into one of those green clouded storms in between Little Rock and Fort Smith. Hail is very loud when it hits a motorcycle helmet. I finally gave up at Ozark and waited out the Nadies there. Been there, done that, didn't get a tee shirt, but I don't want to do it again. Great description in your poem. Pappy
Gracias!
My yard could use some of that rain. Our "storms" have yielded more rumbles than rain.
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