At night after a storm, a speaker hears cries echoing through the woods and immediately thinks of an abandoned child. There is an urgent, anxious feeling as he or she pushes into the thicket, searching in the dark. The scene creates an eerie, unsettled mood: wet leaves, moonless darkness, and a wood full of voices. When the speaker reaches the source, the discovery is not a living child but a small burial ground, where a fallen tree has crashed onto an infant’s grave. The neat row of markers makes the moment feel fragile and sorrowful, as if the storm has disturbed something that should have stayed at rest. The speaker’s alarm turns into a quiet, mournful awareness of loss.
After the Storm — Summary
Dead night. The wood resounds with cries. Abandoned child, I think. I rush into the thicket, find a path. My eye expands into the moonless dark.
Wet from the rain-filled leaves upturned In my run, I find the source: On a mound where six markers neatly grew, A tree had crashed upon an infant’s grave.