Sunday Morning After The Storm Poem by Steven Federle

Clear sky, vaulting blue
drives out the ragged clouds,
of yesterday’s storm.

Yesterday
the wind raged
as we huddled close
behind closed windows.

Lightning
enthralled the night
as thunder intoned
basso profundo,
felt before heard.

From behind drawn drapes
we felt trees thrashing
releasing spent leaves
until barren and clean,
fearless at last they faced
winter’s cold scythe.

But now the bright Sabbath
breaks through,
and the resurgent sun
pierces
spare nature’s
pure architecture.