The Calm Before

In this poem I try to describe the calm before an approaching summer thunderstorm.

Thunderclouds build steadily in the West -

towering white mountains of turbulent waves.

Their dark gray underbellies heave and swell.

The sky overhead is as blue as the jaybird soaring above.

Its harsh cry suddenly here and then gone.

The air smells moist and moldy like freshly hoed earth.

A young boy rests on a fluffy orange towel.

His wet corn-silk hair luminous in the afternoon light.

His mother, silent, sits next to him.

Her fluttering hands placing bright toys into a

shimmering red basket.

Her diamond ring flashes pieces of rainbow light.

The playground ends at a dark straight edge

lined by tall oak trees.

Their green and gold sunsplashed leaves are strangely still.

They raise  powerful dark arms to the azure sky -

silently trying to hold back the storm.

Author's Note

I wrote this poem during a writers' workshop in 1999.