wwxThe Awkward Squad ww wwwwPoetry by Eddie Castellan

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wThe Wait ww14 August 2011

The storm pretends,
tumbling fingers one by one,
and fights to mould me
beneath its punch.
But I am holding its footfall,
waiting

It pauses, breathes, and conceals
rain-bullets,
welding each one of us
to a coded particle of earth.
But the trees still wait,
crisping with short, green light

 


All poems and other texts on this site are the copyright of Richard Edward Hugh Castellan 2009