Grief Storm

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: September 09, 2018

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Submitted: September 09, 2018

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as the brutish thunder rolls
and the windowpane trembles in its might,
it’s hard not feel the old cliché
as though the storm is not without
but within

the silver daggers that pelt the glass,
the sorrowful waves
crashing overhead,
they are but whispers of
the swirling typhoon
that knots the soul
atmospheric musings
reflections and collections
of memories nearly gone,
memories not yet had
washed into oblivion
safely, swiftly,
but oh so violently

eyes shining,
flowing like the heavens
bathed in what might have been
carried away again
in rivers deep with regret,
overflown with emptiness
wounds still oozing
complicated bruising

it’s always stormy now


© Copyright 2018 Jane Steward. All rights reserved.

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