The air is thick with angry heat.
A clap of thunder shakes my body into a frenzied madness.
I am sliced by a thin silver blade of lightning.
I stretch out my arms.
The sky opens.
The lighting slices through me.
Slash after slash,
Piercing my flesh.
Red raindrops collect on my skin
until puddles of bright red collect at my feet.
The rain slows.
The sky is stitched by a layer of humidity.
The sun carves a path through the clouds,
burning the raw flesh of each lightning strike
etched onto my skin.
The air is still thick.
It is not angry
But another storm will come.
April Bandy-Taylor holds a MA degree in Counseling and an MEd in Physical Education/Exercise Science. Her greatest passions include poetry, Broadway musicals, and animal rights. Her writing has been featured on CharlestonPoets.com. She currently resides in Charleston, SC with her wife, 3 rescue dogs and one rowdy chinchilla.