The slight chill
that runs through the heated air –
blue skies edging with grey,
shades upon shades emerging.
The bilious clouds expand,
fluffed up by wind-filled mouths,
rise along the blue,
climb it’s back and rises along it
the wind which pushes,
kisses the backs of the clouds,
eager urging, the grey banks forwards –
the overwhelm the sky, fill it
form a canopy of shades above me,
a sun which hides,
rivaled by jagged flashes,
sheets of light,
booms within the clouds,
as wet
begins to touch me,
the sea beyond my home
begins to moan,
as wind and water lash it –
add power to that girded serpent
the storm which drives,
a house which shakes –
windows shutting, wind beating,
the lights which flicker, now
urged to bedrooms and hidden spaces
my mouth, open
gasping –
the house which shakes,
pushed and pulled,
a lover roughly taking
a lover with wild hair tossing
cries echoing thunder –
lightning flashing
from eyes of grey,
from darker places
Writer Moe 