The Loud Storm in the Valley

It looks beautiful.

More importantly misplaced.

The odd storm in the valley.

It’s meant to be serene and sunny.

Instead it’s loud and gloomy.

1000 miles from the town it’s meant to destroy.

The pastures would be so rich and plentiful.

They are desolate and empty.

What should be isn’t.

What is should not be.

The storms purpose is misused.

Meaningful words thrown around in the pastures.

They would have meaning in the town.

Bad things happen when words are misplaced.

Confusion and heart break.

The usual.

In an unusual place.

The town is waiting for the storm.

They want their misery ended.

Unnecessary chaos.

Everyone can see it from a distance.

It’s that large.

You could not miss it if you were blind.

It is almost as if it is stuck.

Time is passing.

But the storm isn’t.

Time travel would not even help.

Whirling and stirring up trouble.

A vicious cycle.

Women who stare at that storm long enough are infatuated.

They become hypnotized.

Their brains become mush.

Think.

The storm does not know if it wants to stay or leave.

It does as it wants.

Disregarding the town’s people.

Selfish storm in the valley.

Capturing all the butterflies before they break out of the cocoon.

Premature murder.

The beautiful flowers are uprooted.

No pollen for the bees.

No honey.

Theft of sweetness.

The thief of the pastures.