Tuesday, September 30, 2014


They cannot endure it any farther
Dismal weather is soon to come 
Miniature explosions on the pavement
The irregular drumbeats on my roof
It has started
Gazing into the ash grey sky
Organized legions marching swiftly 
Ignoring your own presence
Moisturizing the roots of history
The birds are hiding in the safety of the trees
All the plants have wilted away
In the horizon a golden beacon
The puddles will dry up soon