All In Her Head

No drop of rain
Fell to seep between
the blades out on the lawn
No tattered leaves
Were torn from trees
They silently cling on.
The thunder clap
And lightning flash
That filled her once with dread
Was nothing but a ghost
Gone passed
It must have been
All in her head..  

Reviews

[R J Askew]

I like the focus on the blades of grass ... and then the shift into the mind. There is an intense metaphysical feel to the poem. The psychology of creativity fascinates.