After The Storm

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After The Storm


Not long after the downpour,

steam dragged itself

from the sheen of cobbles

in an effort to reach

the tiny rainbows

bouncing for the sun.


There was a wet smell in the air,

like the heaving body of a wolf

dying on a riverbank,

choking on its own blood

after the arrow

had pierced its throat.


The deep rumble of thunder

shuddered through the valley

as it rampaged away

to other unsuspecting places,

whilst the black fleeing clouds

still flashed with sizzling ozone.


Swarming midges

danced with the last raindrops

falling from an ever lightening sky,

their zigzag waltz

an urgent moment of ecstasy

In a too short life.


A cool breeze

ruffled the canopy

of a dripping umbrella,

taking humidity by the hand

and throwing it away

with the scurrying thunderheads.


Flimsy clothes

stuck to bodies

in an uncomfortable cocoon

that raised primal feelings

of embalmment

and death.


And people left their huddles

From beneath trees

And hastily interesting shop doorways

Back out into the new world

Washed clean of all our sins.

Waiting to be defiled.


We watch a couple

who have stayed out there

throughout the deluge

locked in a passionate kiss.

We watch their steaming bodies

slowly melt away.

climaxhotlove metaphorstormwet

◄ Passchendaele (RE-POST)

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Frances Macaulay Forde

Sat 5th Aug 2017 06:11

Another interesting and well-caught moment. Loved the opening stanza.

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Paul Welsh

Fri 4th Aug 2017 21:25


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