The morning sun rose,
Clear of the high ridges.
The lake, peat-laden black,
Grasped by thin fingers of dawn fog.
The north sky filled with dark clouds.
The storm front marched
Over the mountain ridge,
Just past the midpoint of the lake.
The wind whipped the waves higher,
Until they struck noisily at the sides.
There was a flash of lightning
Followed by a tremendous thunderclap.
The storm had come at last.
Poem found in Loch by Paul Zindel
Found Poems are a type of poetry where you take words or phrases from another piece of literature and put them together to make something completely new. This one was inspired by my favorite book, Loch by Paul Zindel. I enjoyed writing it, but would never submit it for publication as the words are Zindel’s, but I still wanted to share it with you all. Thank you for reading!