Alex Tate, Grade 9
Lightning splits the air,
The raindrops muted by its cry.
Harsh, the fall like tears of ice,
Down from the deep, black sky.
Once more, the lighting strikes
The drums of thunder pound.
A crow seeks shelter,
As it glides down,
To the damp, wet earth on the ground.
The sun hides behind clouds of sorrow.
Smothered by the damp, dark air.
As lightning strikes for the third time,
The crow looks up.