After the Storm

Just when my mind
starts to clear
of wreckage, turmoil;

the bitter aftertaste
of you,

I am swept up
in clouds of disarray;
sky red and waning

and he,
lost as a tornado
on a reckless path

to nowhere
but me.

Bystanders sit,
like angry moons
in judgement of stars;
envious of the unwavering

on evenings when solace
should be non existent

for custodians like us.

~Day 9, April 9 for NaPoMo (a poem a day in APril for National poetry month)


One thought on “After the Storm

  1. There is only one person who affects me that strongly … and I see her FB page with her awesome hubby and her incredible children … and she still wrecks me. Kudos. ~Jim


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