The storm lit up the clouds. The dark blue sky turned into a musky light gray. Light strikes reached from the left to the right like tree branches. But then another strike would grow out smaller, barely reaching out, after that big moment. That last strike is me.
Tag: poet
Always
There’s a tranquility in storms The world may crash and burn The rain may pour and scream But there’s a glint of light Hope shines from The people surrounding you The dogs loving you They gleam through the wall of water Always.
