Rolling Thunder (In My Chest)
I hear the willows weeping
in the corners of my mind,
I feel the sand go slipping
through the hourglass of time.
I see the catfish whiskers,
more like tentacles, thick and black,
I sense the wasp nest growing
as I wait for their attack.
I watch the full moon rising
as the sun sets in the west,
I feel the thunder rolling
like a pounding in my chest.
I hear the barn owl's question,
though the answer no one knows,
as the spider weaves her magic
in the poison mistletoe.
©Danielle White
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