One Single Impression: Trembling

Little
Leaves me trembling

Anymore

But there is this:

Electrical storms and wind:

The this and that of nature

Slamming into the night

Tumbling like a heavy load

On

Every

Single

Thing.

The good and the beautiful

Are not spared

The weight of the assault.

Nor are the small

Or the sleeping

Or the innocent and warm

Or you and me.

This chain of events

Wraps itself around

Sleep,

Chokes it,

And moves on

Without mercy

Or even a sense

Of what mercy is.

Left with what is,
I tremble.

One Single Impression