Search This Blog

Monday, April 7, 2014

Tempest

The rain falls in unforgiving sheets
And the wind in its drunken stupor
Stumbles onto my window pane,
Takes a step back, only to fall again.
And I sit, wonder to myself
In the relentless darkness
That when I traced circles with
My fingers on your smooth forehead
Did that start the sandy storm
That rages in your mind.

No comments:

Post a Comment