Storm Clouds
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“Within the fog, the distant mountains strain,
bruised in shades of lavender and forest green
each angle, decomposing in the rain.”
The lion roars; clouds morph into its mane
as lightning flashes streak across the scene,
within the fog, the distant mountains strain.
Gusting winds spin a rusty weather vane
testing the sturdiness of Man's machine,
each angle, decomposing in the rain.
The river rises as soggy slopes drain
and fresh, purified air, smells ozone clean,
within the fog, the distant mountains strain.
The clouds soon disperse; just a few remain
and the leaves on the trees regain their sheen,
each angle, decomposing in the rain.
Defeated; the monster is quickly slain,
and skies shift from grey to aquamarine.
Within the fog, the distant mountains strain,
each angle, decomposing in the rain.
(Villanelle)
4/28/2021
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Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2021
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