Beauty Within Destruction

April 13, 2009
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Beauty Within Destruction

The air grows cold
And the sky grows dark
With a storm of black clouds
Heightening with anger.
The trees sway in the tackling wind,
Branches being pulled off
And circling toward the sky.
Lightning crackles across the darkness
Waiting to pounce,
Full of a terrible murderous beauty.
The ultimate destruction.
Then the skies cleared
As if waking from a dream.
The wind slowed to a steady pace
But the damage remained.
Not a tree left standing
Or a home left unbroken.
The storm had left its mark.
I stood in the clearing
Of a death zone.
Something wet hit my cheek
Damage wasn’t all the storm
Had left us,
There was also
The rare red snowflakes we still take
For granted.

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