After the Storm
After the storm
After the dark storm-after the whistling winds;
After the grey clouds, ominously huddled together,
Below a patron; Many patrons curiously stretched their necks
Tending in a careless flow-sounds of the clouds,
Rushed in a whirling current, covering where the hot sun lay,
Larger than smaller clouds,
And with a crack they opened and the sun fell through
Slow at first, then plummeting to the wet ground.
Guide that inspired this poem: