A storm is coming across the island.
It brings a dark rainbow made entirely of gray.
The wind is wet, but doesn't chill me.
It makes the blinds rattle, chatter like frightened teeth.
The windchime protests in discordant notes.
I brush Cool Water Woman on my skin;
Watch the white caps upon the harbor.
Night is coming fast.
You've been looking for me all your life.
Now, I'm looking for you, too.
No comments:
Post a Comment