Storm

The chill morning air,
echoes of the chill in my soul;
Frosty, rictus smile freezing new-born buds.
Brittle words, brittle air,
Sparkling sun obscured by lowering cloud.
Life shimmers, unfocused, hazy.
Cold winds blow; Buffeting, bullying;
Whispering warnings;
Slamming a door in my face.

Clouds gathered in your eyes,
Flicker and fulminate on the horizon.
The thunder of your good-bye
rumbles then roars across the sky.
Heavy drops hit my cheeks
and roll down, off my chin.

Storm without, storm with-in.
Hard and cleansing, washing over me,
around me, through me.
I am left exhausted, empty;
Ready for what is to come:

Ready: As the sun peeps out
and nudges the clouds aside.

Storm

Rosepoet

Balgal, Australia

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Artwork Comments

  • Natella2020
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