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The Storm

By Janis Trubic

The moon, new, lost, drowned in a night devoured by thunder. 
Frightened, vanishing stars simply give up. 
Now the end is at hand. 
Lightning promises that quick verdict, 
one that is overturned. 
Kindred spirits answer, 
boldly defiant, jubilant, sparkling.  
Fireflies. Lightning bugs. Night angels. 
Impossibly, happily aglow at death's door. 
Alone, bewitched, I witness this miracle, 
knowing that when my time comes, 
I will close my eyes 
and see fireflies 
dancing me to God. 

Filed Under: Poetry

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Bradford Writes

Pitt-Bradford’s first year writing program’s new publication features our best student writing from our composition classes. Learn more at BradfordWrites.com.

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