Thunder booms, undulating over roiling seas

like a stranger growling at the door

Some say it’s the devil’s voice

 

Driving rain pelts the window

smearing grime in greasy stripes

Lights flicker on and off, on then off

 

Bolts of lightning strike a small boat

bobbing in the harbor

and set it adrift

 

A shy boy wanders

down by the rocky shore

to share bread with greedy gulls

 

Electricity in the air

gives him comfort

A reprieve from his lonely life

 

Lights at the dispatch center

foreshadow his tragic demise

Transmissions sent fall silent

 

Snatches of conversation over a radio

Static calls to action are

no match for the devil’s work

 

Rest easy, Child

May peace await you

in the next life

 

 

photo: Olivante Poetry/Pixabay

prompts: The Sunday Whirl, #TastyPoem, Suzanne Olivante Poetry