Lisel Mueller

Storm

To see the lightning 
as a question mark
made by a trembling hand

and hear the thunder
as its dreaded answer,
ambiguous in the distance
but, close, a rebuke as brutal
as a clean blow to the head—

such childish superstition
comes back to you at night
when you lie still, enduring
the bludgeoning of the fissured dark,
still powerless, still guilty.