by Faith
Stars shuddered into nonexistence,
The moon dimmed its reassuring light,
Not even a faint outline showed through
the gathering clouds.
The city was lowered
to a subjugated buzz of energy,
Cast out through
Countless bulbs of fluorescence,
Emanating limited exuberance
into the sky’s reproachful absence of light.
People in their homes.
The roaring hush forced doors shut,
Hauled people into their bedrooms
to consume the foreboding sky,
Eyes aglow with anticipation,
A reflection of lights dot the city,
Like ladders to the extinguished stars.
It began.
The lightning clawed at the silence until
Its seams gave way.
Its fabric nothing more
than a web of buzzing, shuttering glass.
Fizzing streaks of electricity
Set the sky aflame.
White pounding the ground
With furious blows
That make buildings’ knees quake.
People dash from their windows,
Shut their curtains,
Pull up covers,
Press hands to ears.
Some scream,
Some produce no sound
Minds stifled with the vibrations
and blinding illumination of
lightning strikes.
On a cliffside not far away,
The entire escapade is nothing more
than an aftershock of light,
Echoing booms of thunder.
A man snaps a picture,
and forever captures
the deathless power
and suppressed vitality
of lightning shearing
the layer of vibrancy
that plagues the city streets
at night.
