Poem

Read this out loud. When I read it I felt like I was in the middle of one. We had one just last night (Aug 26)  -vc

An African Thunderstorm

From the West
Clouds come hurrying with the wind
Turning
Sharply
Here and there
Like a plague of locusts
Whirling
Tossing up things on its tail
Like a madman chasing nothing

Pregnant clouds
Ride stately on its back
Gathering to perch on hills
Like dark sinister wings;
The wind whistles by
and trees bend to let it pass.

In the village
Screams of delighted children
Toss and Turn
In the din of whirling wind,
Women-
Babies clinging on their backs-
Dart about
In and out
Madly
The wind whistles by
Whilst trees bend to let it pass.

Clothes were like tattered flags
Flying off
To expose dangling breasts
As jagged blinding flashes
Rumble, tremble, and crack
Amidst the smell of fired smoke
and the pelting march of the storm.

David Rubadiri was born in Malawi in 1930

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2 Comments

  1. sandraraven said,

    June 30, 2009 at 1:24 pm

    Hi! I was surfing and found your blog post… nice! I love your blog. 🙂 Cheers! Sandra. R.

  2. megan fox said,

    September 11, 2009 at 10:34 am

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