Whirling Winds Wail
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The sky becomes synonymous with grey,
signifying a storm is on its way.
And a sullied sun swiftly slips away;
allowing shadows to overcome day,
while clouds release their droplets straightaway.
Thunder echoes across purple-bruised skies,
as lightning causes drops to vaporize.
And ebony descends to claim its prize
while the whirling winds wail and Nature cries.
Treetops get tossed and bullied by each gust
for brisk breezes suddenly feel robust;
it happens swiftly, no time to adjust.
Broken by a murmured mantra of sound,
Silence acquiesces as raindrops pound.
And pellets of ice get viciously hurled!
Everything is in scattered disarray,
where twisters start to materialize.
Hail and rain meld into an icy crust;
that turns the streets into a battleground,
and neighborhoods into a netherworld.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2018
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