Vivien Bayley
The Storm
She saw curling clouds
Cover an expanse of sky
Blotting out the sun.
She heard flapping wings
As a mob of starlings rose
Searching safe shelter.
She smelled the dampness
Of wet leaves ready to fall
On wet tufty grass.
She felt chill raindrops
Slice across her exposed skin
Stinging upraised face.
She tasted water
Cold as a widow’s tears on
Unkissed parted lips.
The storm enveloped
Her and filled unearthly space
With black loneliness.
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