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Siren in the Great Plains

Storm chasers court a dangerous mistress

By Evie DenisonPublished 2 years ago 1 min read
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image credit: fireboat895 (via pixabay)

They had heard the summer Siren

sing her vocal chloroform

against the timpani and rhythm

of a Kansas thunderstorm.

The danger was apparent

though the call was stronger still

enhancing all the senses

while diminishing free will.

The vision was electric,

with each bolt, fresh energy

while winds danced wildly

through each blade of grass and tree.

And the air was fully fragrant,

perfumed in petrichor,

that sweet smell of rain and soil,

a sort of sensory encore.

And even when the rain had gone,

and the wind had died away,

they'd hold a candle for the storm

they'd chase another day.

Until the Siren called again,

they'd pine for darkened skies,

through every window waiting,

for the next storm to catch their eyes.

nature poetry
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About the Creator

Evie Denison

Poetry is the most fun when it is paired with a striking image. Join me in an appreciation of all things unconventionally beautiful, especially in the world of dark academia and storytelling. Instagram: @darkivyevie.

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