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(from 1993)
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When morning woke in silence
and you heard naught but a prayer,
when the earth was scented misty
came a tightness in the air.
And soon the winds were hammering
from sea and onto land
giving chase to charcoal rain
and knocking down what couldn’t stand
the battering and the beating
and the gusting of the gale
as steeples fell, and great old trees
splintered in its trail.
By evening the tempest waned…
the storm released the air…
and as darkness draped the silence
you could hear naught but a prayer.
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(c) 1993, 2016 Betty Hayes Albright
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(We’re in the midst of very stormy, roaring weather in the Pacific NW – hoping to get this posted before the power goes out.)