The Storm’s Intervention

When the rain came in the night
we sought refuge.
We were on our hands and our knees
blindly discovering
fumbling over rocks and branches
hoping that something would illuminate
and we would find a place to rest
to escape.

I’m unsure now
but then
I was convinced of an alcove
grooved into the side of a large hill
a place that stared out
at me as we passed.
Somewhere previous tenants
had spent evenings

It taunted me then
the memory of that place
or at least
the possibility of it.
I was certain enough
of its existence to claim
that I had seen it to the others
and to their detriment
they attempted to follow.

The rain
for its part
was brutal
It poured out from the sky in
thick wave-like blankets
soaking everything we knew
making itself impossible to ignore.

The storm’s intervention was so
monstrous that I started
to give it the characteristics of a villain
its heart was cold
its demeanor wild
its resolve for dominion


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