Deluge Drear

Cushions of mauve piled high above a lingering letterbox of light, slow-shifting shades of darker hue descend in deepening black upon the sea. And all around is silent, still, no birds, no wave-sounds, dried-up winter leaves now cling as crisp and lifeless remnants on the trees, mute in breathless air. The purple backdrop drains to grey, The fading light retreats and finally gives way. A slight and almost-friendly breeze ripples the water, rustles the trees. A faint and muffled rumbling in the gloom, a first few raindrops, innocently sparse, blown in upon a quickening wind. The clouds converge, their prelude done. Across the bay is launched a sudden storm, A tempest from the wild Atlantic borne. The huddled shoreline dwellings disappear, engulfed within a winter deluge drear.