Nature's Hell

• Arlya Tuckey, Grade 11
• Poetry
• 2014

Blown, shoved, and pushed by the wind,
Driven by the force of nature.
Stripped of trees, the land made bare.
No shadow cast upon her.
Destruction in the wind’s cruel wake,
Ruin. All that is left.
Naught can be done to save the land,
To heal it of the theft.
It picks up again, thrusting the grit,
Across the barren plains.
Wearing away at the rocks and stones,
That aren’t already worn away.
Then a shadow, first small, but larger grows,
Is cast across the sand.
A spark of hope, and regeneration,
Within the raindrop’s hands.