Maelstrom
#5 of Poetry
A Shakespearian sonnet about a subject that eludes even me. This is one of the poems that wrote itself (more so than usual), and it remains one of the most powerful poems I've written, I think.
Maelstrom
Listening close, I count the stalking steps;
The echoes seem to shake the shore beneath.
I tense as thunder bathes me in its breath,
Gripping grass as the wind pulls it from me.
Crying mutely, I stare up at the sky,
Its flank heaving as it swirls around me.
Though I shake, I do not flinch from the bite
Of the rain opening and sinking deep.
Blinking weakly, I follow the bright claws
Of lightning swiping at horizon's face.
The earth extends its hand as if to halt.
But I remain until the storm abates--
Then I stood up, hiding the limp and sway,
Put on a smile, and staggered away.