[Glenn Wright]

September Storm

Swooping low in tense patrols,
the sparrows catch my eye.
The thunderheads have flattened tops
like anvils in the sky
where God will hammer thunderbolts.
Leaves tremble on the trees.
The limber birch sways drunkenly.
All Nature’s ill at ease.

The storms of spring and fall are thought
to deal the harshest shocks,
as though the angels, light and dark,
fight most at equinox.
In spring the powers of life prevail;
in fall, the spirits of death.
So the children of Job were killed
by Whirlwind’s lethal breath.

My daughter hugs our Labrador.
The lights begin to flicker.
I light a row of candles as
the rain and hail fall thicker.
Branches slap the windowpanes
and lightning flashes rouse
a roaring wind that prowls around
the garden and the house.

“What will happen to the birds?”
my daughter asks, near tears.
“They know to find a hiding place,”
I say to calm her fears.
Next morning in the peaceful light,
she sleeps while I begin
to find each feathered corpse and hide
it in the garbage bin.
————————
Edits:
S1L8: All Natures feels unease. > All Nature’s ill at ease.
S2L3: as though the angels of light and dark > as though the angels, light and dark,
S3L6: Thunder and lightning rouse > and lightning flashes rouse
S4L1: “What happens to the birds?” I hear > “What will happen to the birds?”
S4L2: my daughter, fighting tears. > my daughter asks, near tears
S4L3 “They know how to stay safe,” I say > “They know to find a hiding place,”
S4L4: to calm her innocent fears. > I say to calm her fears.
S4L6: while she sleeps, I begin > she sleeps while I begin