Sorrowful is the sight from my back porch
as I watch my dear companion fight the storm.
Her feathery branches whip through the air,
tormented by gloriously gruesome gale-force winds,
and pelted
by ruthless rains that never show mercy.
Under ominously black skies
my dear companion weeps
as droplets slip from the tips
of her wispy branches
which now droop towards the ground. There is no peace tonight
as my mind travels to worries
of the cherished willow's fate. I am powerless
to stop the damage of the summer storm tonight.
The howl of the wind
dies like the misery of last year's nightmares,
and those determined branches fight to remain
fully intact.
As sunlight returns, so too does the willow's glory-
the rain evaporates, disappearing into oblivion.
Now, there is calm
quiet
after the near death experience
and the willow stands tall
like the mythical creatures which always rose from ash.
She has dodged destruction,
serving as a testimony that all beautiful things
can find peace after the storm.
YOU ARE READING
Reflections on a Window
PoetryUnedited. Raw poetry from the mind of an aspiring author. When it comes to me, it will find its home here. Types and forms of poems will vary.
