Skeletons of cats arch and slink

Beneath the fat calves of resting cars

Metal pins the air alongside sweet crepe myrtle bloom

All is still and you sleep

Whilst the tongue of road wets her distance

Pools of last night’s storm gather like miniature lakes

Cold and black in shadow, the light from street lamps

Glittering off their surface and into the surround

I think of when we were unafraid

And stayed awake moving beneath the other

Slick as two seals

Your hair smelling of me

The room holding her breath

Even first light paused in our ecclipse of the other

Like rounding clock hands wrapping ever further

The steady progress of time and heartbeat, just beneath hushed surface

My pulse is a noise in my head as all else but crush of bedsheets

Like rosettes in a festival infused with pigment will

Thread color through time, remaining smooth and unbroken

Looking into your eyes I see no hint of

The eventual

Lay of land

Not far down

This still road

And isn’t that how it always plays?

A terrible and familiar piece of reflection

When the unexpected occurs, we should not be surprised

It is written in the dewy softness of this graphed moment

We take in our mouths and chew upon

Unable to imagine

The storm

Though it leaves signs of itself

Like tears against your cheek

Show themselves in moonlight

0 Replies to “The storm”

  1. ” when the unexpected occurs, we should not be surprised ” is so to the core of our beings because we continue to be or at least act surprised. Some can act. Some cannot! As always, perfectly written and touching my heart!

  2. I instantly had to listen to “You’re the storm” by The Cardigans.
    And it was a perfect soundtrack to your poem.
    “Beneath the fat calves of resting cars” wonderful image
    “When the unexpected occurs, we should not be surprised
    It is written in the dewy softness of this graphed moment
    We take in our mouths and chew upon
    Unable to imagine
    The storm”
    That was when I fully gave in to the gentle bite of this piece. Great work!

  3. Looking into your eyes I see no hint of
    The eventual
    Lay of land
    Not far down
    This still road
    And isn’t that how it always plays?

    Oh so very true.

  4. Perfectly titled, especially because of these lines:
    “And isn’t that how it always plays?
    A terrible and familiar piece of reflection
    When the unexpected occurs, we should not be surprised
    It is written in the dewy softness of this graphed moment
    We take in our mouths and chew upon
    Unable to imagine
    The storm”

  5. Your imagery is stunning:

    Skeletons of cats arch and slink
    Beneath the fat calves of resting cars
    Metal pins the air alongside sweet crepe myrtle bloom
    All is still and you sleep
    Whilst the tongue of road wets her distance

    This beautiful poem takes me there.

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