A Storm is at Hand

Her words were like a dark cloud,
blocking out the sun,
low hanging and ominous,
overpowering the day.

The grayness followed her
waiting for the storm to arrive.
The stillness was so thick
it was oppressive,
The silence was deafening.

Birds blackened the sky
with their escape route,
plucked feathers falling like rain.
Flowers withering under the weight.

Anguished faces turning upward,
as stale breadcrumbs
spill from their mouths.
Self-doubt creeping in,
as more clouds gather.

The sky is now black.
There is no place to run,
the storm is at hand.

Previously published by Between These Shores, December 2018

Ann Christine Tabaka was nominated for the 2017 & 2023 Pushcart Prize in Poetry; nominated for the 2023 Dwarf Stars award of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Poetry Association; winner of Spillwords Press 2020 Publication of the Year; selected as a Judge for the Soundwaves Poetry Contest of Northern Ireland 2023. Her bio is featured in the "Who's Who of Emerging Writers 2020" and "2021," published by Sweetycat Press. She is the author of 16 poetry books, and 1 short story book. She lives in Delaware, USA, with her husband and four cats, and loves gardening and cooking.

Her most recent credits are: Sand Hills Literary Magazine, The Phoenix, Eclipse Lit, Streetcake Experimental Writing Magazine, Carolina Muse, Ephemeral Literary Review, The Elevation Review, North Dakota Quarterly, Tangled Locks Journal, Wild Roof Journal, The American Writers Review, Black Moon Magazine, Pacific Review, Pomona Valley Review, West Texas Literary Review.

Find more by Ann Christine Tabaka in the Author Index.