I gaze outside through a window that has
collected dirty on the glass. Most things
are blocked from my view, but I can see
the tippy tops of the almost dying palm
trees. And when I blink, I miss the first
movement of the leaves that begin to fall.
I hear the wind begin to pick up howling
louder so I can hear it clearly. Branches
sway relentlessly and fall soundlessly to
the ground.
Rain falls down and cuts through the
atmosphere like bullets through flesh.
Things progress, everything gets worse.
Lightening lights up the sky while thunder
reverberates everywhere.
And soon, I stand up to see the few palm trees
that are leaning dangerously close
to the ground. It's almost certain that within
in minutes, they are going to give up then
break apart. It happens, after a while and
after many leaves descend to the ground,
a tree goes down. It hits the floor with a
soft thud that seems to say clearly
through the howling wind. It's over. I give up.
And I realized that that's what happened to us
we were calm. but in a blink of an eye; we
turned into a raging storm.
YOU ARE READING
Of Small Hours and Racing Thoughts
Poetryin which i write poetry to try and make you feel something.
