Storm
Written by: David Windle
The whipping wind lashed the water
Shredding the shiny surface of the lake;
Rivers of rain ran down the windows
Of the weather battered house
And the linked trees lining the hilltop
Leant like old men into the face of the storm.
The day raged on, the hours passing one by one
Like grey ghosts, inside the house we waited.
Silence reigned while we watched the sky
For a change of fortune, a glint of sun
Cutting through the gathered grey
Or a slackening of the gale.
Daylight granulated into night;
The line of trees like sentinels
Kept watch across the empty dark
As owls and stoats began their work
And the stars burnt on invisibly.
Inside, our bright hearts flickered.