The storm turned away
Running from where
We all may lay
While Angels and crows
Called in sick
Flightless
Wearily quiet
The ground rumbled,
Upset and blistered
The day man found
The day they discovered
Even walls grow tired
Of being built
To be beat down
The sun and the moon,
Now step aside
Leaving stragglers,
Lost within this interim
Of fading shades
While the stars
Who knew the cost
Again,
Sight their tears
For such
Loss
I'm so happy
my poetry has
come back to me
© 2006 Charlotte Thompson
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