Whipped
Watching the trees
get whipped by wind and rain,
I thought of the birds
of falling nests
and
broken wings,
why are there none
at my window today?
Yesterday they were here,
when the liquid curtains fell
Let them seek shelter here.
I hear them distantly,
and pray they are well,
braving gust and water,
far, far stronger
than me.
08212013100.202
Copyright © Kabuteng P.Ink K. | Year Posted 2013
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