Dec 2020
The wind whistles
in rhythm with the door that
wrestles with its lock.
The gong of thunder
hangs in the saturated sky
as lightning interlaces
her fingers and dances
to the storm's syncopation.
in rhythm with the door that
wrestles with its lock.
The gong of thunder
hangs in the saturated sky
as lightning interlaces
her fingers and dances
to the storm's syncopation.
A quick little poem I wrote about a storm! :)
