Apr 2020
Trees are
gone forever.
There is
a lack,
a void.
It smells
of pine
and emptiness.
Flashes of
that day
at the
surface of
my memory.
I remember
how it
use to
be before.
gone forever.
There is
a lack,
a void.
It smells
of pine
and emptiness.
Flashes of
that day
at the
surface of
my memory.
I remember
how it
use to
be before.
On April 27, 2011, there was a large tornado that tore through Tuscaloosa. I wrote some poetry about my experience and made it into a small booklet.
