The Cloaked One

I wrote this after watching the horror that befell Joplin, MO.

White, whipping cloth in the lazy spring,

throwing fits on the clothes line in the yard,

temper tantrums that warn of the danger

of what wonders in the winds,

the cloaked figure that slices a man down to a twig,

rips a home into a pile of bones,

and twists a tree's branches as if they were the young fingers

of but an innocent child,

whining that he or she has had enough,

that the world shouldn't be so tough.

The cloaked one knows nothing of love.

Author's Note

It's short and rather basic, but I think that reflects the nature of its antagonist, the cloaked figure.

Reviews

[Christie Moses]

dark and stark images are left dancing behind my eyes. Hovering on creepy, this one lives up to the mystery of its title.