ORANGE

This poem was a prompt to write a poem using the color orange.

Orange

If the sky turns orange on a moonless night
when sleeping creatures would rather not see
the terrors that will soon set their fears alight
and tempt the deep hidden angst to fly free.

And the old man who makes his way through town,
with a dull hatchet and flashlight in tow
happens to stagger and tries to sit down.
Is he alive or near dead? We don’t know.

They say the lightning was ruthless that year,
blazing talons pierced the ground without mercy.
Smoke screens create nightmares born of old fears.
Master sun could not set without cursing.

         Green land returned to the beds of the wild
         Memories linger in the mind of a child.