The wind sneaks in through my window sill
and I can hear the rhythm of the rain.
A shy draft looms like a visitor
misplaced it roams my way.
Outside I hear the thunder howl
as windswept trees whisper my name,
so I close my eyes to the chill of the moon
pushing blue hues through my glass pane.
Mar 18, 2022
Mar 18, 2022 at 9:50 PM UTC
The wind sneaks in through my window sill
and I can hear the rhythm of the rain.
A shy draft looms like a visitor
misplaced it roams my way.
Outside I hear the thunder howl
as windswept trees whisper my name,
so I close my eyes to the chill of the moon
pushing blue hues through my glass pane.
Small brevity I wrote the other night, storm season has now arrived
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