The thunder is a remote
echo now,
a memory to haunt the ear,
reminders of the impact
of the storm
and the price one pays
for facing its fury.

A figure stalks the washed
out scenes,
exuding a need to find
remnants of a history
in the detritus
falling from the spillways.

A lone street light illuminates
a pool
of lifeless litter.



Filed under Poetry, Poetry - Prompts

8 responses to “Aftermath

  1. Good wordling! I didn’t find your link at Brenda’s Whirl…..

  2. lifeless litter – powerful ending and the way it closes the scene.

  3. The aftermath is often worse that the storm itself when its full impact is realized. Very atmospheric.

  4. Yes, it does haunt the ear, truly. Nice writing, Mark.

  5. Very nice Mark – evocative of “after the storm” indeed…I feel as if I’m right there surveying the damage…

  6. Love this Mr. Windham. The cadence is haunting for sure!

  7. a descriptive scene of something so unimaginable… i could see it clearly…

Some of what I write is true, some is fiction; most is merely possibility.

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