Twilight of a Storm

An strangely eerie twilight

suffuses the afternoon woods

and despite the hot wind bruising

the atmosphere, a stillness prevails.

sunrays still provoke leaves to

glow, the contrast of colour

brightened by sunlight reluctant

to depart, against the gathering

tempest of heated gusts still

raging from the sun's blast furnace

belligerently moving lighter-than

cloud-wisps unceremoniously

replaced with looming, dark and

business-like thunderheads, their

booming voices faintly heard,

gathering to convene a raucous

parliament of the assembling

entitled powers of raw nature.