Friday, September 2, 2011

the weather man

A breeze unaware,

of a quiet storm it brews.

rain unaware,

of the hail, of the snow.

the light unaware,

of the black it conceals.

black comes in shades, plenty.

the blackest black she shows.

seasons have never been more seasonal.

she knows not where her heart lies.

i dread being her weather-man.

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