Storms

All day long earth flirted with the sullen atmosphere, twirling her floral skirts, tossing her hair like Guinevere. Her eyelids all aflutter, winking -- she is a dangerous coquette -- the air is close and heavy, all creation pants and sweats . . . darkness falls. Tired of her teasing, earth turns her head to sleep, but the atmosphere feels slighted, a storm of anger in him leaps, his fascination kindled by the earth's seductive wiles. In the blackness lightning flashes in a vivid, crooked smile. He will never be mistreated by a flirtatious, foolish girl; his thwarted passion heightens, a revolting, vicious swirl. There is violence on the planet, the sky bows her head and weeps as the thunder roars like cannons and thick winds, twistedly, sweep. Daylight finds earth ravished, her floral skirts scattered, in shreds, but the atmosphere has lightened; the guilty storm has fled. Faye Lanham Gibson Copyright, June 27, 2014