My friend, she walked the city
music in her mind
and dancing in her step.
A dark haired whirlwind
fearless of the metal grates
and streetlight streaking rain.
I caught her in the silence
a silken state of mind
muffled with the memories
of hollowness
and sound.
“The stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds, and there was a new voice which you slowly recognized as your own.” -M. Oliver
Cloudburst
A choir of spirits, altos all
Singing a sweet serenade
Glassy and silver, humming, they fall
Darting, they quickly cascade
Crisp amber leaves, glossy gold
under billows of low cast sky
blowing in waves, muddy and cold
casting off drops as they fly
A melody risen of unknown birth
Musicians from mist gathered gray
Heaven sent fingers, playing the earth
Washing my troubles away
Singing a sweet serenade
Glassy and silver, humming, they fall
Darting, they quickly cascade
Crisp amber leaves, glossy gold
under billows of low cast sky
blowing in waves, muddy and cold
casting off drops as they fly
A melody risen of unknown birth
Musicians from mist gathered gray
Heaven sent fingers, playing the earth
Washing my troubles away
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