Approaching Storm
Approaching Storm
by Edmund Siejka
It was unexpected
For what everyone thought
Would be a mild April
That no one saw it coming.
The first signs
Came over the horizon
Thick grayish fingers
Slowly inching towards us
A warning of coming snow.
Waiting at the train station
Anxious to get home
I could do nothing
But watch the light flurries,
Floating gently in the wind,
Come down
Faster and faster
Heavier and heavier.
In the station’s waiting room
An old man sat down
Bad leg stretched outward
Cane by his good side.
Unbuttoning his top coat
He said to no one in particular
‘First hint of snow here
And everything slows down.’
I nodded quietly.
A woman waiting at the far end
Had a worried look
That only parents have
As her daughter,
Really only a child,
Held her mother’s hand
And recited her numbers
From one to twenty
In a voice as clear as an angel.
The old man, tilting his head to one side,
Listened
Counting with the girl
Tapping the cement floor with his cane.
Outside the snow continued unabated
Covering everything
In a heavy white blanket
So that even the tallest trees,
Limbs outstretched,
Knelt before nature’s might.
Copyright © Edmund Siejka | Year Posted 2018
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