The Thunder in the Distance
The thunder in the distance belies the coming storm.
The stream has become choppy. The air is feeling warm.
And over by the timeless dock, there rocks an old canoe,
Left by the boy who won't be back. He left to wear the blue.
And he will come no more to oar. His story ripped us to the core.
The wind picks up and does intend, the dock now to inform.
The boat rocking idly to and fro still feels no threat of the storm.
How could they know the test to come was bursting to be true
And before the waves crashed over, there would be no more canoe.
As the lad who came once as before left his memory upon the shore.
by Linda Anthony Hill 2018