Karoo Storm Poem by Valerie Lennox

A solitary windmill piercing the washed out sky
Alone it stands against the flat landscape, a sentinel
And, every now and then, creaks
As a bashful breeze teases the sails and then is gone.

The cracked, dry earth, unyielding under the merciless sun
Barren, heat shimmers wobbling just above the surface.
Boulders and stone baking in the midday heat
A lone gazelle daintily steps, seeking that last blade of green.

A buzzard floats, high on thermals of hot air sucked up from below
And, in the distance a bank of grey cloud towers on the horizon.
The hot air is thick, like breathing syrup into your lungs
And all is suddenly completely still, utterly silent.

A bolt of lightning cracks, like a whip, abruptly rending the sky in two
The windmill shudders as the sails begin to move, faster now
And the grey mass rolls inexorably forward, unstoppable
The gazelle lifts its head, nostrils flared, it tastes the coming rain.

The storm breaks, thrashing at the windmill, the heavy drops pelting
And small rivulets appear amongst the dust and wilted brush
All is dark, now, as the fury of the storm lashes at the earth.
Punishing, whipping, unleashing the torrent of its rage.

Just as quickly, it is over, all that remains the scent of wet earth
The creak of the windmill slows, then stops
The gazelle continues its way, daintily picking between the rocks
And a lone yellow flower bravely turns its face back towards the sun.