and in that distant thunderstorm
the rain crashes down
drowns the pavement
seeps in deep
into the mud
the lightning strikes
never the same point
twice
or so they say
why does this drought feel so much like rain?
These dead letters remember me kindly.
and in that distant thunderstorm
the rain crashes down
drowns the pavement
seeps in deep
into the mud
the lightning strikes
never the same point
twice
or so they say
why does this drought feel so much like rain?
and the poetry
it lived in her
sparked by every thought
every wish
every dream
of him
and when she put the pen
to the paper
she realized the infinite
possibilities
of what could be said
of what could be felt.