ink
a literary supplement
Fall 2001
The Storm
By Teresa Vasquez
Cow spots in shadow,
Broken chaff in diffuse light,
Sullen air pregnant with the breath of emerging:
Thirst about to be quenched.
Wind and clouds descend
On a dreaming suspended valley-
The kind of clouds that compel the sun's rays,
The kind of rays that bear no mercy
For roots, much less branches.
Sighing twiggy vines,
Moaning, trembling buds,
A pane of glass beneath the pressing brow.
The first drops reveal such cavernous wells
Concealed in clouds,
Soon to weep violence and birth.
The woods sway amid whispers
Of the clearest water,
Every sense at this moment exhaling.
Duck Mechanica
Ink Drawing By Jolan Emamali
|
