Lightning
The oaks shone
Gaunt gold
On the lip
Of the storm before
The wind rose,
The shapeless mouth
Opened and began
Its five-hour howl;
The lights
Went out fast, branches
Sidled over
The pitch of the roof, bounced
Into the year
That grew black
Within minutes, except
For the lightening – the landscape
Bulging forth like a quick
Lesson in creating, then
Thudding away. Inside,
As always,
It was hard to tell
Fear from excitement:
How sensual
The lightning’s
Poured stroke! and still,
What a fire and a risk!
As always the body
Wants to hide,
Wants to flow toward it – strives
To balance while
Fear shouts,
Excitement shouts, back
And forth – each
Bolt a burning river
Tearing like escape through the dark
Field of the other.
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