Chase Twichell - The New Dark Ages

Thunderstorms stir me up—
the stillness right before

 

the first close tremor,
the pond shivering

 

at the height of summer,
the field full-blown, going to seed.

 

But this storm scares me.
A foreign climate occupies the land.

 

When nature was God, in my childhood,
I wasn't afraid. Snow buried the town,

 

the river flooded it,
lightning set the woods on fire.

 

In months the damage bandaged itself
with mosses and ferns.

 

This storm comes from another
world, here by mistake,

 

its rain blistering th...