A Deafening Sense of Thunder
A thunderstorm passed over,
gun turrets flash.
gray hulls rumble and roll
above tumultuous clouds.
Evening commences to weep -
an aftermath,
a damp emotive capsizing
that barely touches upturned faces
yet it washes fright from brows.
As seafaring battles go
it was a skirmish,
flotillas of cruisers awash from
near misses;
they sailed away
leaving this whittling rain,
a backwash of electric jism,
the distant sound
of sailors shouting for rum.
Behind our eyes
deaf fish mouth deaf bubbles.
Sea legs are braced against
peripheral nerves.
Ozone spumes against inner ears.
The wake of the storm
mutes and tingles, damps down
as it slowly drips
into a salty bucket
of silence.
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