Latch unhooked and the window snatched
By a rambunctious gale,
I lean out into the storm,
Concrete and grass forty feet below,
But I'm looking up...
The near full moon sails silver
In a storm wracked sky,
Illuminates scudding clouds
Which hide, then reveal her face,
The night sky bathed in moonlight.
The wind snatches the breath
From my parted lips,
You don't need that it howls,
Just gaze and feel, and find what's real,
The storm is beneath your skin.
-
Author:
SerenWise (
Offline) - Published: February 9th, 2020 22:56
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 40
- Users favorite of this poem: Fay Slimm.
Offline)
Comments3
Those storms can bring us such wonder within us.
Deeper than forty feet I would say and deceptively higher too... enjoyed from the basement to the topmost floor..... Neville
A first rate piece of work Seren - feeling the storm through your graphic lines gives the scene life and ends on an impressively deep finalé. This one goes to my faves.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.