Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

The Annual Storm

Rain fell last night, loud
Warned that tomorrow I'd wake
On a lush island
At least, it was lush
Until the island ended
At my doorstep

The river poured forth
Primitive spirit, kept us
Two days hostage

I walked to the edge
Of the bridge that river
Had gobbled right up
Picked up a rock, rough
Limestone, threw it, and watched its
Ripples float away

It receded, left
Fallen trees, no bridge, and two
People washed away





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback