Storm over Steinmaur A storm lurks beyond the mountains rushing to where I sit inside my car on a tumultuous hillside with doors ajar to welcome the wind.
Tempest threatens my illusory peace even while I watch sunlight brush each mountain’s snowy face printed against stripes of magenta blue.
Quickly it darkens now, white mountains retreat into haze, portraits of the horizon evaporate into an unknown place.
A lone hawk challenges the rising wind, spirals flatly like a leaf, dips like a dart, then, overpowered like my heart, plummets down to the shallow field. |