Tropical Storm


Blustery palms
thump the light
on its way out.

With no vast blue sky to contend with,
clouds blacken up,
imply threat
even as they stock up on moisture.

A brief color show
and the horizon packs it in.
The ocean is on edge.
Where it once looked for comfort
is now thunder’s pressure cooker.

The stars get barely a look in.
The moon is MIA.

Folks barricade themselves in
as best they can.

The storm is yet to burst
but it’s full of itself already.


Advancing storm with dark clouds over tropical beach

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in Front Range Review, Studio One and Columbia Review with work upcoming in Naugatuck River Review, Abyss and Apex and Midwest Quarterly.
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