Sunday, April 14, 2019

Ann Christine Tabaka writes

Storm Dance

Tall grasses begin to sway
as they dance with the wind.
Prophetic sky morphs to gray,
the storm about to begin.

There is nowhere left to hide.
The tempest sets its course.
Mighty trees bow down low
to the unrelenting force.

It rages on in torrents.
There appears no end in sight,
as fiery streaks of lightening
Split in half the dark of night.

With morning comes the sunrise,
tall grasses glistening wet.
Calm once more engulfs all
the world with rain beset. 
Storm Dancers, watercolor on rice paper, 14x16. $210
Storm Dancers -- Elizabeth Sullivan

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