the wind whistles softly
passing time through the trees
over river bends and adventures
biding time as storm builds
the forest's light fades,
foliage and clouds and danger
the earth holds her breath
her winds murmur high and low
the storm breaks above
rainwater snapping branches
the wind shrieks with glee
free to reign while it rains
YOU ARE READING
The Witching Hour
Poetrypoetry about the wicked and the witchy || featured by WP Poetry on Oddities Unknown || #183 in poem (11/3/18)
