A Storm is at Hand

Her words were like a dark cloud,

blocking out the sun,

low hanging and ominous,

overpowering the day.

The grayness followed her

waiting for the storm to arrive.

The stillness was so thick

it was oppressive,

The silence was deafening.

Birds blackened the sky

with their escape route,

plucked feathers falling like rain.

Flowers withering under the weight.

Anguished faces turning upward,

as stale bread crumbs spill from their mouths.

Self-doubt creeping in,

as more clouds gather.

The sky is now black.

There is no place to run,

the storm is at hand.

© Ann Christine Tabaka

About the Author

Ann Christine Tabaka was born and lives in Delaware.  She is a published poet, an artist, a chemist, and a personal trainer.  She loves gardening, cooking, and the ocean.  Chris lives with her husband and two cats.  Her poems have been published in numerous national and international poetry journals, reviews, and anthologies. Chris has been selected as the resident Haiku poet for Stanzaic Stylings.

Categories: Featured Writer's

Tags: Creative Talents Unleashed, Featured Writer, Poetry, writer