Poems and Thoughts by Frank Maurer
On the Edge of the Storm.I was on the edge of the passing storm.
It warned with thunder and lightning.
Oh, I am on the edge so all would be alright.
Finish harvesting the flowers, I thought--
It will be alright,
From the field to the barn to the water containers.
Suddenly a bolt and a flash on top of me;
The vibrations pierced my body--
And then the smell of burning ozone in the air.
Was I then to die with my pounding heart?
Thought--whom would I again ever see or not?
Thought--What really comes fore out of stress?
My ears still ring.
But--I was just on the edge of the storm.
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