Tuesday, July 19, 2011

July Storm (Poem)

July Storm

A warning's been given.

The silence holds what's soon to become
the tip-tap of hail in July, snickering wind —

you cannot outrace all it gathers
to put down, transformed, before you —

woolly clouds punched up
and daubing a once-picture-perfect sky.

Thunder, roiled, like the slams of balls
hitting pins and then being guttered,

and the swelling black-inked expanse lights
up above you, your gin of broken spokes

and shredding fabric leaving you too little
protected in elemental but unspecified conditions.

A month from now, maybe two, you'll notice
how green leaves twist browned undersides up,

their curling edges left brittle to the touch.
Like your own feelings of need after

a long drought, their thirst breaks
the quiet that always precedes the storm.

© 2011 Maureen E. Doallas
________________________________

I offer this poem for the final One Shot Wednesday event at One Stop Poetry, with my thanks to all, and to our host Pete especially, for pledging and fulfilling so great a commitment to creating a community around poetry.

11 comments:

Hannah Stephenson said...

"The silence holds what's soon to become
the tip-tap of hail in July"--

You describe it so well, Maureen!

Anonymous said...

Nothing like a summer rain. Scary is the quiet before the storm. I guess life is kinda like that too.

Jenne' R. Andrews said...

What a gorgeous, lyrical poem, Maureen-- these lines are transcendant-- muse singing through you--

woolly clouds punched up
and daubing a once-picture-perfect sky.

Thunder, roiled, like the slams of balls
hitting pins and then being guttered,

and the swelling black-inked expanse lights
up above you, your gin of broken spokes

and shredding fabric leaving you too little
protected in elemental but unspecified conditions.

your reach and drive for strong imagery is paying off with every poem. Brava! Thanks for stopping by...xxxbesos-- J

Diane Walker said...

Beautiful, Maureen -- I really like the parallel droughts at the end...

Brian Miller said...

love me some summer rain...the bowling analogy is nice as well...the weather changes soon enough...

* said...

A beautiful poem, Marueen, with riveting scenes. Excellent word choice (roiled, I love that word, along with guttered, swelling, and undersides), and movement of line down the page.

I'm saddened by the close of One Shot/One Stop; are you joining the new group over at dVerse?

Rob Mustard said...

Love the use of "guttered". This poem takes me back to when I first saw your work and said you were the "real deal". Makes me really miss the kind of summer storms you have in eastern climates, which we do not get in the desert of Los Angeles. Exceptional, sensory, intense.

L.L. Barkat said...

"A month from now, maybe two, you'll notice
how green leaves twist"

I do like the use of the word "twist" here. This is hope that is no easy hope.

S. Etole said...

that telltale quiet before ...

Deborah said...

You achieve a wonderful combination of intensity and restraint here.

Ruth said...

Love the snickering wind and the clouds punched up! You've crafted with rich language and imagery. Fine work.