Biting the Storm’s Tail

a poem by Harlon Rivers

Biting the Storm’s Tail

blusterous winds humbled the hilltop wilderness

sharp shards of heavy rain pelted the flinching earth

the vicious storm raged through the raucous fall atmosphere,

hurling downpour’s sheets of black sky from all directions

the uninvited silence of the owls speaks deafening volumes

nature’s voices are drown by the nighttime fury,

silent estrangement from the ordinary

… present moments…

shelter shook, walls rattled to the stud’s grounded foundation

testing the resolve of the reclusive wooden asylum

sleep eluded solace as the storm was...

watch the thinker toss and turn with the howling wind,

examine the darkness, view the night

this storm is without stillness…

turmoil ruminates through the scribed pages of dreams

sleeping revelations stirred by rumination

are thoughtfully uttered onto imaginings of paper

…at dawn…

broken branches chronicle the traumatic events

a tan sheet of watermark paper lies blank on the night stand

a broken tipped pencil on top of a wrinkled tablet page

hard day’s nights come and go… tempest dreams fade into light

silent reverie,

too deep for words,

is better dreamt than written…