Saturday, May 22, 2010

Hushed


The haze of heat rises from the baking fields.
It pushes and rushes up, up -
Lifting the clouds into towers.
A massive, white anvil fills the western sky,
And in the silent, portentous hush,
Before the Smith lowers his hammer,
A hawk hangs,
Perched between heat waves
And rushing storm,
Floating.

8 comments:

Lilibeth said...

beautifully written and certainly appropriate for the weather we have been seeing.

Short Poems said...

Simply beautiful :)

Sweetest in the Gale said...

The imagery in this was beautiful! And the photo is stunning.

Tumblewords: said...

Very nice!

SandyCarlson said...

Yes. Oh, yes.

Ramesh Sood said...

That's what I call creative imagination.. just beautiful.. Thanks for visiting.. join me in practicing happiness..

anthonynorth said...

You captured that moment perfectly.

gautami tripathy said...

So beautiful..

Tentacles