No sound.
Dark skies poor
Into windows
Like a waterfall.
Children calm in their homes
Sleeping in comfortable beds.
Day breaks,
Alerting parents to prepare.
They heard warnings,
And they moved fast.
Some were more worried
Some cried
Some fought
Some quietly rushed
No one stayed.
As they left the city,
An unnatural silence
Moved into their homes.
Wind whistled past three posts,
As their lights flickered off for good.
Despite the quiet,
There was a restlessness there,
Without a true home.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Home
PoetryA connected or unconnected series of poems, in order or out of order. The audience is in charge of absolutes.
