Summer Storm

Ink lings

I can smell it in the air. Almost taste it
Betrayed by a solid gray horizon
Dark clouds hasten across the sky
Orange streaks peek through rents in their fabric

Near the shore a restless dinghy
Rocks nervously in anticipation
As thunder whispers in the distance
Flashes of lightning reveal it’s presence

A stiffening breeze propels the scent of rain
Eddy’s scurry further up the sand
Grasping at the pebbles of the shore
As if seeking refuge there

Urgent raindrops sting my face
Falling as do arrows from the bow
Wind whipped rain pounces on the water
The tethered dinghy struggles to be free

Rivulets of water flee my cheeks
Becoming as one with my clothes
My hair combed by it’s fingers
My body soaked, my soul cleansed

I am a captive of the summer storm 

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About oldmainer

I am retired and live in southern Maine with my wife and two dogs. I started Oldmainer as an outlet for my occasional opinions and random observations, with some poetry thrown in. I welcome anyone that wants to kick back and join me here on the porch, exploring all the gifts we have been given and the memories collected. Thanks for stopping by.
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