The Eye
I love a night of storm
When face is slapped
by wind rush drops
and the darkest greys
rush by
like
a z
zo
zoe
zoet
zoetr
zoetro
zoetrop
zoetrope
thats turned too fast
Grumble stumbles over hills afar
Sky filled with radiant
Potters scar
Splatters and growls
hide the nigh time
norms
Tasting rain soaked wind
Body surf the waves
Detaching from the day
Peace within the storm
Copyright © Christopher Quigley | Year Posted 2019
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