The End of a Frayed RopeA Poem by SteelwineA thunderstorm broods overhead Still there’s a moment in that silence When the orange clouds darken to gray, And the lightning growls in displeasure At the darkness withholding the day.
And the rosebush beside us is shivering, Though the heat lingers thick in the gloom, Because it sees no promise of morning Nor of any sweet, final bloom. © 2015 SteelwineAuthor's Note
Reviews
|
StatsAuthor
|