Finally the storm has walked away
throwing behind a ragged pitiful day.
After two days of rapacious plunder,
two nights of murderous rage.
It had descended suddenly
from a lowering sky,
and when sleep had enfolded men,
it flung aside its dark cloak
and grandly marched through
city blocks and living spaces .
Streets howled, trees cringed,
its hot breath scorched the moon
shivering in the blackened sky.
A flash, a clap and then
a dying whimper – felled leaves rushed in
for hopeful cover.
And so the storm raved and ranted,
bellowed, heaved, and rolled on.
The mayor’s mansion was routed
as was the city’s disaster management crew
that had an ‘emergency plan’ in place
and a back up too.
Today, it is still. The tousled breath,
waits for day,
A peacock’s lament, downcast flowers,
lost sun rays,
Footprints of the storm – unmistakable!
… another meeting of the disaster management,
sure sign the storm was a success.