My Skies

Storm Approaches

Storm approaches. 

The dark sky closes in.

The trees stand still and huddle,

closing ranks, but 

it keeps on coming. Soon 

they’ll be flapping about,
trying to beat it off.

The Storm Closes

The storm closes,

and sits right on top of the trees

which now begin to toss.

Behind them, though, the sky
glows through the branches

with patches of 

strange white light.

Stretching High

Stretching high

on slender stem,

the tree almost floats,

almost flies

in the wild, wide sky.

I straighten, and take 

a deep breath in,

feeling as if
the tree is breathing.

The Clouds Around the Sun

The clouds around the sun,

which reveal and frame it,

seem to be pointing forward.

‘Excelsior!’ they seem to cry. 

‘Onward! Upward!’ they call
across the expanding sky.

The Sun Falls

The sun falls

down onto the tops 

of the waiting hills,

into the gullies and crevices 

with a crash of resounding light

that flares up and widens

and bursts,

and goes black.

The prompt today at dVerse Poetics, is Micro/Macro — to write a micro-poem of 140 characters, not counting spaces, about a macro-photo. I decided to do several. The titles, added merely for identification, also don't count in the number of characters. The photos are my own, of my corner of the world, which I never tire of recording. Unfortunately I completely misunderstood the term macropoetry! My next post attempts to get closer to the idea.