For One Shot Wednesday


The storm crept windward,
a slow scuttle back
over the prevailing breeze.

Too high to be touched
by even the high masted
frigates of downtown architecture,
it roiled on its green belly,
dropping half-dollar hailstones
on cars, their windows shattered
to a frosted moss tint.

Signs rattled and snapped
off their moorings,
slicing through the air
in the mixing swirl
of a cold front sliding under
the weight of afternoon steam.

I watched longer than I should,
then sat in the basement
hearing the walls and floorboards strain
under forty-five thousand feet
of cumulonimbus cloud
being blown toward
the Atlantic.

When I climbed back up
to see the damage
the sky no longer remembered
its rage.


25 thoughts on “For One Shot Wednesday

  1. You bring the height of the storm down to a very human level, and as storms will end, so too does (or can) human rage and anger. Was also amazed by the “a frosted moss tint” line after what preceded it. Nice One Shot!

  2. I caught the “human rage” as Adam did in this too (something things of life that rather be forgotten, have pushed me forward in the style I write contrasting lights/darks) so I know this portion well…very well written and emotional…the ended brought it back out of darkness…excellent ~ April 🙂

  3. Within the past month, we heard about incredible storms that ravaged our neighbor to the south, New York City, destroying over 1,000 trees. You poem immediately took me there.

    Very nice One Shot.

  4. Having lived in the midwest I immediately conjured up the experience of the storm, then I went to your “about” and found it validated my impression. Excellent poem, Matt.
    And thanks for your visit to my blog.

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