Two Short Storm Poems

February 27, 2017 § Leave a comment

The sky is moving away.

 

Awoken by the dying storm that rocked me into sleep

I hear the sighs of trees now left in peace.

Notes and secrets lie open on our street

The fallen dustbin has lost the game in the tenth round.

Hearts still pump our blood in the storm’s rhythm

One could go out and offer the rain a warm skin to touch.

But of course we stay inside, undercover, under the covers.

And wait. Wait for the storm to die.

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After a storm

 

After a storm, the world like a photograph:

a frozen smile, a hand in the air, not waving anymore.

Goodbyes are movement but the wind is gone.

To walk into the room of no words

to read the walls of the sighs

to eat the glacier’s tongue

just not to sleep

just not to speak.

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