Stormlight
I'm an island in the middle
Of a churning gray-green lake; a storm is brewing.
The wind howls as I sit wrapped up in the dark;
The electricity went, first thing.
Everybody became silent;
We'd been fighting earlier,
Tensions breaking hard over rocky heads
And crashing into others, salty and bitter.
The storm had been drowned out
But a thunderclap silenced us all, made us move closer,
Until the clouds became soft islands
The howls became whispers
The roars became mumbles
And the rage moved offshore.
— Ryan E. Holman
VoxPoetica encourages Takoma Park and Silver Spring residents to submit their work. E-mail your poems to poet@takoma.com, or mail them to the Takoma Voice / Silver Spring Voice, 6935 Laurel Ave., suite 207, Takoma Park, MD 20912. The editor of VoxPoetica is Don Berger, Poet Laureate of Takoma Park.
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