the slap

it gathered itself
as wisps
formed in the sky

it grew
tiny

small

larger

wisps became whites
turned into greys

it cannoned around
inside the cloud
as tension rose

and when the light
shot forth

when the roar
had echoed round

when the world around
had shattered
it fell

into the wind
arcs across the sky
pushed
it blew into others
broke down
and then reformed

it fell
with the glee of a flier
until the man
on the ground
looked up
and for just one moment
saw

it fell
until collision
at last
struck like the slap
from an angry storm


© Frank Prem, 2017

March 2017 Poem #25: to dream hospital

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