it is the calm, now,
the calm that happens after the storm.
the waves had swelled for weeks,
up, down, up, down, not always dangerous,
but never stable.
there was no calm before the storm,
but the waves are still now,
too still, hiding the wreckage
lying broken beneath the waves,
too calm, for the waves after a storm.
what use is the calm now?
the damage has been done
the waves have crashed and ruined it all
maybe it'll never be rebuilt,
the calm will taunt us,
and taunt us,
until the waves swell again.
Spring 2018
YOU ARE READING
Unbroken • Poetry
Poetryeven the leaves will not break beneath her touch "All art is quite useless." - Oscar Wilde
