Like the shadow
that covets the embrace
of day’s dwindling rays
as dark tendrils chase
loving light away,
I to race to face
that which retreats
from my sore and
swollen feet.

Rushing on
but when it is
within fingers reach,
I hear a noise,
I have a thought,
I turn my head,
then turn it back
and like the light
my love is gone.

It was beautiful the storm in my head.
The rain, flood all of it the catastrophe.