tempest

returning to the island
we can see the storm in the distance
darkened clouds roiling the heavens

by the time the boat reaches mid harbor
the skies darken most ominously
as rain teems across the ferry’s bow

among the two score voyagers on the open deck
hoods of those wearing hoodies sprout up quickly
mutely they stand like monks in cowls at vespers’ end

soon we’re in a cavern of wind and sheet lightning
then strike staggered cracking bolts of white incandescent dream
followed by rumblings and booms and snaps of thunder

as we approach the shore    now wind-maddened rain
flings itself at us    batters us    clambers over us
from all sides as the ferry sidles into the open slip

we on deck in the open have been awed
by the storm’s sudden might    its fury
sodden  we just stand compliantly like dogs

awaiting the leash    yet ours is the power
to put all that in a flurry of ordered words
these jots and tittles with which – like a storm –
to stir things up   to make one feel   to live in the moment

*    *   *

© Gregory V Driscoll  2013

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