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wonderful creatures.
by Andrew S Adamsan alluminum can sits on the table,
the only refuge from this hellish night.
air conditioning is a pipe dream yet.
the only reality is ninety five degrees.
lurking from beyond a hidden plane,
the clouds assemble their empire.
the storms crawl in on all fours-
slowly, but soon, they will have wings.
they will breathe where we could not,
they will replenish moisture with more than sweat.
and quick as they came, they die away.
the carcass of the storm flows up on land,
as the world begins to grow. these sacrificial lambs,
these wonderful creatures. 08/18/2003 Posted on 08/19/2003
Copyright © 2025 Andrew S Adams
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Jean Mollett on 08/19/03 at 06:07 AM Hi Andrew,
Good one. The storms come and go, they move around like creatures. I never thought of them as creatures, very unusal. The way the roll in, yeah I gues ya could. Sometimes they do come and go pretty fast at times. Look out, they tend to get rough. |
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