I realized something last night-
When I watched my mother leave,
It's some sort of never ending fight,
That leaves me alone in the dark to seethe.
My bare feet wobbled on the stone cold ground,
The grass was stiff and crusted with frost,
The seemingly empty land figuratively painted,
Dead silence,
Not a single sound.
The hairs on my arms perked up,
It was snowing,
The invisibly silver washed flocons dusting the ground,
And for a moment I thought only I knew,
That the snow was there,
That it fell silently,
The snow and I,
Cold and invisible.
YOU ARE READING
Rain Under Streetlight
PoetryA collection of poems of all genres. I would love all of the advice and feedback. Thanks!
