Rude Awakening Poem by D.L. Vuncannon

Last night,
I was awoken
by a brewing tempest in the violet sky;

Floating on it
were fleets of nimbus -
charcoal and swell-chested -
and they sent battalions of their salty soldiers
down on my window pane.

Frightening whips of wind
rattled the glass,
and for only a moment,
I thought it would shatter
into a thousand crystalline offspring.

But, as all storms do,
it calmed its brittle temper,
and henceforth,
the crying sky lulled me back into my dream.