Swept Along One Rainy Night

Poem By Jason Petersen

Swept along one rainy night, by winds that had me in a fight, to find my feet a solid path, beneath an angry sea of grass.
I held my hand to shield my face, from bitter rain that stung that place, and guessing on which way to go, I stumbled thinking 'soon I'll know'.
Up a hill I staggered on, the grass here wasn't quite so long, but little rocks that hid their face, in darkness which made less my pace.
‘Which way now' I thought to me, atop the hill stood by a tree. This way, that way look the same, and worse... for this infernal rain.
I sat myself, pulled out my flask, ‘a mug of tea would ease my task.' A map and compass better still, would show me from this sopping hill.
Numbing fingers tried the lid, and made me feel again a kid, as cold and wet I couldn't grip, my digits numb would only slip.
At then a blinding flash of light, made daylight out of dead of night, as lightening bolted from the sky, a fright that almost made me cry.
I bagged my flask as quick as that, and jumped up nimble as a cat. The wind had calmed, but not my dread, as heavens thundered overhead.
Nothing more need urge me on, I ran, and ran, and then ran on. Leaping boulders, dodging trees, I finally fell to my knees.
The rain still stinging couldn't hide, the all-night garage that I spied. The garage that had been my search, through gloom and grim my all-night church.
‘A cigarette! ' was my first thought, this journey hasn't been for naught, and as I rose from kneeling muck, t'was then the savage lightening struck.
A petrol pump it seemed to me, had been a joke of tragedy. Not knowing how, and if how, why, I watched the flames reach for the sky.
Amazed, I looked through gutted eyes, before the shock of my surprise. Before I held my head and screamed, and knew the nightmare wasn't dreamed.
I wiped my face of tears and rain, that painted worse my tortured pain, and cursing gods for rotten luck, I was the next thing lightening struck.

Comments about Swept Along One Rainy Night

And then, I tumbled from my bed, for this is the place where dreams end, with horror's dread. Wet with soaking sweat from the thought, that I wasn't dead, and over wrought, that I was here instead. For on the hill where the tale began, I'd met my true love, who with me ran, until she was summoned from above. Carried away by the howling wind, into another time and place, where terrors end; there is no saving grace. And I made a hasty trip to the bathroom, for nature calls, regardless of the time, but soon! s

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