Nature Outdone


Nature Outdone       


The air gone electric

Filled with the roar of the fans

Piling into the stands of this great

Modern Coliseum,

Where, in a few short moments,

The teams would take to the turf.

All awaiting a shifting of the earth

Beneath the sun-turned-spectator

As the crowd thundered.


Nature would not be outdone.


The wind shrieked down the canyon

Angry that it could not be heard

Over the roar of the crowd.

The wind, gathering his might—

The water of the air,

The dirt of the dust,

And the fury of the sky—

And swelled into a muddy monster

Storming the Stadium.

The crowd, sensing its approach,

Grew louder,

Relishing the primal power

That hulked looming.


Nature would not be outdone.


Releasing the full force of his wrath,

The wind roared across the stands,

With pelting sand,

Crashing thunder,

And the clashing barrage of brazen raindrops

Bulleting from the sky.

The crowd grew silent in reverence and awe.


Nature would not be outdone.


Then Chaos.

—The pandemonium’s feet

grabbed ponchos and

storm umbrellas slipped

stairs down the stands

of soaking shirts—


Then shelter.

The fans, now safe beneath

The bleachers, shivered looking

Out at Nature undone.

The sun-still-spectator watched

From above,

Eager for a glimpse,

But as of yet,



The air gone electric whirred

With thunder.


The hotdog stands shook

In their buns.


And then it was gone.


Nature would not be outdone,

And feeling its respect restored,

Withdrew into the canyon

As the crowd surged back into

The stadium, whistling

For the game





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