the gray hand
stretches across the land
it knocks over
the trees and power poles
as an impatient reach
across the chess board
downs a pawn or knight
the tempest hag screams
upon the howling winds
her cackle booms
in the explosive thunder
the dark skies flash
when her electric hair
whips through the clouds
her multitude of arms
wreak havoc on everything
she passes over
yet the only relief
is that she bores easily
and flies off to the horizon
with her cackle echoing
off in the distance
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