The Approaching Storm

The bluffs on the opposite side of the valley
Have paled, as if the rain I'd heard is coming
Is already there. Without any warning, the birds
Fly away. The wind's picking up. There's
A chill in it now. I should probably gather
The towels and bedding here on the deck,
And take them inside, but I don't. I'm too
Keen to keep my senses feasting on
The approaching storm.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 38 times
Written on 2021-09-02 at 21:57

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