a four-stanza storm

Opaque light filling

Up every crevice

Of the atmosphere

That I live under.


 Too cold for my skin’s

Receptors to handle and

Too wet for my feet to step out in

To take the scene on one on one.


So I glance through a glass

That divides

The wind

From my face and I am


Understanding the beauty

Behind such chaos.

Leaves flying and

Trees swaying;


Homeless cats and

Men inevitably

Getting drenched who

Are probably scared.


But tomorrow, when

The sun permeates the

Atmosphere and enables

The flowers to flourish,


I know the cats, in their own

Way, and the men, in their

Minds, will appreciate the warmth

So much more than if there never was
KV ©

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