|A Coming Storm (standard:poetry, 264 words)|
|Author: Finn McKool||Added: May 11 2003||Views/Reads: 1818/0||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|For someone who looms on the horizon for me. She could be all I need, or just another heart break.|
I can feel you in the corners of my mind. Like when I sit beneath my flowered tree. I can smell your blossoms, but it's faint. I catch it the whiff just enough to fire my brain Which tells me, yes, it is sweet. I try to catch it again, but it is gone. I can feel you like an impending storm. Out there somewhere on the horizon. I can feel you coming. Will your rains bring sweet relief? Will they quench my roots, sending your Sweetness through out my every limb? Bringing forth the green of my leaves? Ripening fruit, and flower, and sweet sap? Or will your winds rack my boughs? Will your winds and lightening Split me in twain, shaking me To the very ground, a tangled mess Of sticks, limbs, leaves, and boughs? A tattered wooden corpse to be disposed of. I can see you from the corner of my eye. Never in plain sight, always on the peripheral. I turn a thousand different ways. I face hundreds of degrees (360 to be exact) Trying to catch you once, to see you Clear and Real. But you are gone at every turn, Lost in my blind spot leaving my brain To extrapolate the void, and fill it With my own conclusions and delusions. Are you a ghost? You haunt me like one. Like a song. Like a dream. Like a face I should know. Like a name standing on the back of my tongue. Tell me what you are? My ghostsong My storm My fear. My hope. All in dreams. Tweet
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