Between the Storms

oak grove, sunrise, mist, fog, morning

A burst of birds

and

Frantic wings!

Then juxtaposed against that noise–

a shush,

a hush

.

And in the disquieted

quiet,

Oak groves

Plead their branches to the sun.

Yet, still,

The storm

Comes.

Facebooktwittergoogle_pluspinterestmail

19 comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *