A clap of thunder, oh so timely <br />reminds me of those problems unresolved <br />though shaking I was not <br />inside my muddy boots. <br />Damn right I am still standing, <br />and will remain so for the time <br />it takes to execute the next, <br />perhaps a devastating one, <br />this strike of lightning, which appears <br />to be the maestro of the orchestra. <br />Who then, I ask, might be the players, <br />will I be spared by joining from afar? <br />I multiply that figure by the seconds <br />and when thunder comes it may be late <br />too late to gain immunity from all. <br />The only question still remaining <br />is the one I will not even ask, <br />if I am struck what will it be for me, <br />and in the end, who might be watching.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/your-account-sir/
