Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Christopher James

AFTER THE STORM

AFTER THE STORM

AFTER THE STORM

She watches the rain
like a cat watches the rain,
intently, completely,

examining the pine-needles
of water on the carriage window,
and out beyond

at the silver roofs of barns
and at the barrel that has
crash-landed in a field.

Her feet are pin-ball flippers
twitching in their ankle socks,
impatient to leave.

The sky has the face of a black sheep.
Unnoticed, a tree has burst through
the lid of a machine gun billet.

It is a week after the storm.
Trees have fainted: they lie
face down where they fell.
Close

AFTER THE STORM

She watches the rain
like a cat watches the rain,
intently, completely,

examining the pine-needles
of water on the carriage window,
and out beyond

at the silver roofs of barns
and at the barrel that has
crash-landed in a field.

Her feet are pin-ball flippers
twitching in their ankle socks,
impatient to leave.

The sky has the face of a black sheep.
Unnoticed, a tree has burst through
the lid of a machine gun billet.

It is a week after the storm.
Trees have fainted: they lie
face down where they fell.

AFTER THE STORM

Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère