Outside
Outside,
the storm bends
and twists
the hidden trees,
beneath the racing dark
of roaring skies,
and here
here I I lie,
wrapped in quilts
of warmth and quiet,
beneath the blinded stare
of window glass,
hearing the shaking,
the creaking eaves,
the first of rain,
the heavy drops
of leaden sky,
the calamitous clash,
the shattering thuds
of thunder
rolling under
the chasing moon
of night,
I pull the blankets tighter,
hugging the familiar,
through the blinking gasps
of the last of day
and light.
Feel free to contact me. Be nice to know who my audience is and perhaps you can suggest some further topics or themes for my writing! And do give me feedback!
p1964km@googlemail.com
