Creative Writing · Poetry · Uncategorized

Through the Storm


I feel it coming.
The leaves dance, the sky- swollen,
A whispered sigh,
Calm, unwary.

The wind begins to whimper.
The leaves chatter, hushing the sparrows,
A reverberated hum,
Calm, unstoppable.

The wind sirens, the dark nimbus splay.
Their bellies heave and crack- bleeding mosaics,
A sonorous bellow,
Calm, unforgiving.

I feel it leaving.
The leaves glitter in fresh sunlight, the sparrows sing of relief,
A contrite murmur,


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