Sunday, October 18, 2009

there is rain every where

trees are a neon fire
no amount of water will damper
all of the nights strange,
mysterious, and magnificant
creatures come out crawling
to revel in the sky's return to earth
the rain is beating burnt stale
leaves to their death life as compost
you are the tempest
against your own ribcage rattling
manifested earth's indegestion
a fruitful cleanse from decadence
the racoon scuries across the road
there is no fear in the eyes
driven by something deeper in the gut
so dark there is no room for fear
its the calm deep deep
in the center of the storm
it seems so far away and
arrives far too late
to be gone too soon
thrown to tempest again
there is no real end

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