STORM

LOUIS FABER

Storm

We walked slowly along
feet sinking in the sand
after waves swallowed the sun.
We could smell its approach
before the first winds swept
ashore pushing sands against
beach chairs turned for night.
Two dogs ran over dunes
knowing what would come,
drawn by clatter of hammers
placing plywood shutters
over windows and doors.
Clouds, an ebony pall, gathered
mocking, waiting for a moment
when the lid would be lifted
and hell would rise slowly
and sweep across earth
plucking what it would
a mad reaper, scythe ready.
Later we would lie
by dancing light
of hurricane lamps
bodies pressed together
in swirling tempest
breasts warm against
ocean air sliding like rats
under doors, waves lapping
washing away fear
awaiting light of morning.

Louis Faber is a poet living in Florida. His work has appeared widely in the U.S., Europe and Asia, as well as in Constellations, Alchemy Spoon (U.K.), Arena Magazine (Australia), Dreich, Atlanta Review, The Poet (U.K.), Glimpse, Defenestration, New Feathers Anthology, Tomorrow and Tomorrow, North of Oxford, Rattle, Pearl, Midstream, European Judaism, The South Carolina Review and Worcester Review, among many others, and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. A book, The Right to Depart was published by Plain View Press.