Toast To a Thunderstorm
To the white fire that dies
With the same breath it begun
The serrated vein that hides
In sleeves of night; it's sudden sun
To the far arguments of sky quakes
That roll and crash in high surf
Raging: their formless posture breaks
And wakes, a sleeping earth
To the riven statues of cloud
That for a moment bear the bloom
Of the raw and silvered, and the loud
And then it's over
Over too soon
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
