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August, 2000

Storm

by Larry

Blue crabs scuttle through soft mud and sand.
Sea gulls white against green sea, blue sky.
White and gold clouds aloft and on the horizon.
A tiny silver plane, far distant, leaves a straight,
pink vapor trail.
Three gray and black porpoises play and fish in the
waters just past the surf.
Almost black wall of turbulent cloud
rolls in low from the southeast,
nearly opposite the sunset.
Big storm coming. The wind picks up.
Birds fly in place, their feathers
pulled this way and that in the gusts.
A honey-colored horse gallops back and forth
in a wide fenced field near the airstrip,
his red mane flying like a flag, eyes wild,
excited.
Bright flash. Nearby explosion. A burning tree
crashes down.
I call the dog. She doesn't want to come,
reluctant to yield such drama.
Time to go in.
I rub her down with an old towel and she
shakes extra drops around, her tongue hanging,
big grin on her face.
The house shakes. Another flash and boom.
The lights go out.


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