Forest Storm

A ribbon flowing through the breeze

raindrops drumming on the tin roof

Fog rolling through the valley as the fireplace struggles to stay lit

A cold and dry emptiness lingers

Among the scattered evergreens

Isolation, desecration, desolation

The weather passes outside while this room remains the same. Every car drifting passed will eventually be forgotten

The mist overtakes the mountains, flowing ever so slowly towards us

The torrential afternoon crept along at a snail’s pace

We sat within our walls, day in day out

Lost within the realm of our minds

Pacing along the wooden floor

The wind faintly passing through the windows 

An insulated chamber, safe from the deluge

Staring at the ceiling above me

Until at last I slip away