Visceral Tempest

strolling though the quieted roar
a steeped, soaking rush
in silence withdrawn
pausing to bear afflicting
sundering, bruising hailstones
then upon horizon, there
shading my eyes, envisage
perpetual clearing skies, fringed
with blackened clouds, oh how
they come and come and come
till discerned warmth
wakes my mind
to sol’s kindness
realizing the storm
all the while
within resides

© 2012 by DC Lessoway

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