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Nov 2018 · 248
The Storm
Kim Smith Nov 2018
Dark skies ride closer,
The sound of the horseman galloping through.

The wind inescapable,
The time has come to move.

Hunker down and pray for mercy
Pleading with the lord above.

Let Him stop this storm,
May I be worthy of his love.

The door rips from my hand
As I cautiously peer outside.

I know I should have trusted,
But it was harder to wait and hide.

Then silence.
Nov 2018 · 94
Anew
Kim Smith Nov 2018
His face has changed, familiar as it were.
Whipped red cheeks from the voyage.
Falling snow halts – the blankets of white laid.
Oh spring, come quickly!
Let the snow melt, purifying the ground;
Leave way for the sprouts willing to break soil.
Meeting my father for the first time at 25 years old.

— The End —