{"sf1_id":1353967,"sf2_id":"rm8Mv4qn","title":"Maelstrom","author":"Mister Moira","words":112,"posted_at":"2018-07-24T22:34:00.000Z","tags":["Maelstrom","Poetry","Triumph","storm"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1353967-maelstrom","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/rm8Mv4qn","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/b8/e4/b8e41bac-f1e1-4bbb-94f0-87e027349739","description":"#5 of Poetry\n\nA Shakespearian sonnet about a subject that eludes even me. This is one of the poems that wrote itself (more so than usual), and it remains one of the most powerful poems I've written, I think.","content":"Maelstrom\n\nListening close, I count the stalking steps;\n\nThe echoes seem to shake the shore beneath.\n\nI tense as thunder bathes me in its breath,\n\nGripping grass as the wind pulls it from me.\n\nCrying mutely, I stare up at the sky,\n\nIts flank heaving as it swirls around me.\n\nThough I shake, I do not flinch from the bite\n\nOf the rain opening and sinking deep.\n\nBlinking weakly, I follow the bright claws\n\nOf lightning swiping at horizon's face.\n\nThe earth extends its hand as if to halt.\n\nBut I remain until the storm abates--\n\nThen I stood up, hiding the limp and sway,\n\nPut on a smile, and staggered away.\n\n  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"Poetry","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1353690-the-isle-of-echoes.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1380843-leviathan.json"}}