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.
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.