his name

you cannot know

he said

the weather

you live in houses
huddled in a row for safety
in concrete
on tarmac

you are in shock
when a wet hand
of water
of rain reaches down
and slaps you
as though
you do not matter

I
I know the storm

he said

I know his name
I watch him grow
his temper swell

I see him

the old man mused

as he approaches closer
crying out
that he has come
for me

I am alone
my shack is small
and it is filled with holes
through which he sends
his early breezes

I name him Tempest
that makes him howl
no-one should know him
for what he is

but it was whispered
in his song
on a day
when he took my home
and the world
away

I name him
Devastation
to make him shriek aloud
and cry

he named me
Defiance
blew me down
then he whistled himself
away

I know the storm

you
huddle closer
it may be yet
you could
be safe


© Frank Prem, 2016

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “his name

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s