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The Storm



The waves lick at
rocky shores far below,
crashing against ancient dirt,
splashing up in moon-white foam
spraying droplets into the salty air.
The stars glow against a
rich and darkened sky,
layered clouds of looming storms arise,
yet a strip of sky dares remain,
bright and hopeful between black and inky clouds.
The trees behind,
blowing gently in the foreboding wind,
flashing bright green in
the first fork of lightning,
trembling so slightly with
the first booming thunder.
Rain poured down,
broke apart the ocean peace,
drowning trees and rocks alike,
then suddenly it was still.
The clouds did flee and
trees and rocks drenched in frozen rain,
yet the sky dares remain.

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