Flickers

Written about 16 years ago about a Panhandle storm. Weird reading old stuff... My family always headed out to watch the storms, and, living in the country, we had perfect views. These moments were some of the few that we could connect without words.

flickers of bright lightening flash as the last bit of candied orange sun

slowly slips down past the blackness of the horizon

 

mother's face looks very caterpillar yellow...it always looks yellow lately

but more so tonight, with the storm and all. (i'm sure it is just the light)

 

i take my eyes off of her to watch the sky, cadet blue to periwinkle

a small group of rose-colored clouds line one side of the sky, all puffed down

soft and touchable, like angel's bosoms, and i say it aloud despite myself

my brother blushes a deeper shade and looks down at the dusty white of the ground

 

the whole sky lights up so briefly, there should be oohs and aahs from a crowd

no matter how wicked the thunderheads look or how deep and secretive the wall clouds seem

no matter how many claps of thunder or shocks of lightening kiss the earth

like the thin of a whip to a child's skin, or how many funnels dip from the security of their clouds

like old folks testing the waters in the fountain of youth--with timidity and humility at first

no matter what, i think, the whole sight seems so religious to this unreligious girl

 

the three of us stand as one, breathing but barely in a purely peaceful moment

my brother kicks a rock up on the side of the road and down into the tangles of the ditch

a patch of cleche dust blows up around our feet, so dirty to the cleanliness above

"i'm goin' in," he announces, and with those simple words, the silence that was the storm breaks

 

Reviews

[Angel's Lady]

Whoa. This is awesome! Positively beautiful. The imagery you used conveyed exactly what you were seeing, allowing me the privilege of being right there with you. So, make it a foursome.

no matter what, i think, the whole sight seems so religious to this unreligious girl --- LOVE THIS LINE.

cadet blue to periwinkle
a small group of rose-colored clouds line one side of the sky, all puffed down
soft and touchable, like angel's bosoms, ---- WONDERFUL IMAGES...

no matter how wicked the thunderheads look or how deep and secretive the wall clouds seem
no matter how many claps of thunder or shocks of lightening kiss the earth --- WHAT A WAY WITH WORDS YOU HAVE.

and with those simple words, the silence that was the storm breaks --- PERFECT ENDING.

I wondered about the title at first, thinking it should have been called, "Colors", but nope, "Flickers" was absolutely perfect.

Great write. I do believe I am going to put this in my favorites.

PS: like angel's bosoms (more than one angel would be angels' bosoms)

Thank you for writing this and thank you for letting me tag along to watch the storm flickers.