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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE STORM, by AMY RANDALL
First Line: On the high-road
Last Line: As each bullet strikes a leaf.
Subject(s): Storms
First Line: On the high-road
Last Line: As each bullet strikes a leaf.
Subject(s): Storms
On the high-road
The poplars are mad with terror:
They strain at their roots and scream,
Flinging up their white arms
Towards the black sky.
In the valley
The trees stand motionless,
With hunched-up shoulders
And patient feet set close together.
The heavy drops
Make a dull clutter on their leaves,
And the trees blink
As each bullet strikes a leaf.
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