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misha
Poems
Jun 2020
June
The rain battered branches
thrash and shudder
in the dim light of one window.
One person,
still awake,
deep into the stormy night.
Listening to
the howling coyotes-
they were not here last year.
They howl for the desert winds
that they miss so much,
but only the thunder responds.
A low, resonant growl.
I am tired too.
Written by
misha
23/F/under the sea
(23/F/under the sea)
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Fawn
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Thomas W Case
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Juliet
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