Poetry Entery

The sky swells
with dark, ominous clouds.
The trees shake 
hitting on the window panes.

Then I hear the first drops. 
Like the tapping of a stranger at 
the door of a dream
the rain changes everything  

But I remember
the key,
smooth, black and hard
sitting in the palm of my hand.

Small and fragile,
like a piece of glass
yet holding
so much power.

"You know what to do"
the note
that came with the key
said

Only I don't want to 
know what to do
with the tangible key
enclosed in my hand
and the taps of rain
drizzling down my window

But as the roar of the rain picks up,
I glance at the clock.
11:56 it read.
I wonder,
"Can I pretend I don't 
know what to do at 12:00?"

I know I can't.
I still pretend until 
the clock read 11:58
when I know it's time to go.

I slip on my old converses,
and pull on my sweat shirt
Then I kick open the back door
and burst out onto the wet ground.

Slick with mud 
and dirty puddles,
I run out to the apple tree
nearly slipping on the backyard ground

At the apple tree, I stop.
The tree, dotting juicy red apples,
shakes from the down pour of rain

I spot the small nook 
in between two branches
with a hole 
fit for a key.
A key that rests in my hand,
ready to be slipped into the
little hole.

I take a deep, shaky breath, 
like the branches above me,
before I tuck the key into the hole.
When I do,
all I see, is a flash of blinding light
and the smell of my mom's apple pie. 

  ~

Hannah from A Southern Girls Life is having a writing contest with the picture prompt. This is my entry.

Emily