It was always an escape for me -
menacing, dark, power.
The rolling cloud at the fore.
The 70\'s, when Lennon was shot,
the bus stop, Iran, hostages,
but evening storms, I wanted more.
There would be frogs
gathering in the hundreds.
I would witness the swarm.
Adulthood, hurricanes, damage -
you\'d find me wandering
in the eye of the storms.
A sentence received for life.
To ever feel the winds,
bear the losses, the turmoil.
And yet still, a fascination
with the ominous, billowing,
swirling, enigmatic forms.