Powerless
Linda Delayen

I live on the edge of a forest 
surrounded by tall trees which bend gracefully 
when a storm comes, 
yet often break across lines 
leaving me without power.
The air becomes heavy with impending attack 
and visual electricity fills the sky 
followed by the crash of displacement 
one one-hundred, two one-hundred, three one-hundred, 
I count it out, just to see how close it was.
I let droplets of rain fall on me 
and wonder 
how it will feel 
when the lightning 
finally 
hits
 me.

 
© 2002 Linda Delayen