Wailing Works

By brian francis

When the winds howl and rattle
Thunder peeling like a great gong
Penetrates, subsonic waves crashing
The thin streaks of light branching
Race across the sky crackling aloud
Creosote breathes its fragrant smell
Wafting on the wailing winds swirling
Shuddering and shaking the turmoil
Undulates into a mighty crescendo

The deafening sound of the storm
Intensifies as the clouds release
The gentle pitter patter so tentative
At first swells to become natures roar
As the winds drive the waves passing
Cleansing the very air with ozone
That wonderful scent of after storm
Like wafting incense drifting out of
This great temple of the gods



Copyright © 2020 brian francis

Published by

brian francis

Born and raised in the idyllic environment of Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. A rural paradise perfect for a roving childhood. Now living in the desert southwest, with a flock of parrots, a pigeon, and Three dogs.

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