Stormy Countenances

This post-storm palette;

so outrageously orange,

salmon, scarlet, and sanguine…

~

Oddly, the same hues

that fly across his visage

when Hurricane Donald blows.

* I try not to finish the mondos I start with my poetic partner at mondosedoka.com but tonight I just could not help playing with the theme… sorry, mom!

Ionic Ironies

Air filled with portents,

intangible potentials

seeking easy paths to ground.

~

How that huge old tree

must feel the charges building;

dread their incandescent leap!

~

And, yet, there he stands,

reaching up, ever higher,

as though to taunt the lightning.

~

Will that shocking bolt

strike him by complete surprise

when it rends him asunder?

~

What of his remains?

Will they stand for the ages;

A monument to folly?