She storms.
A whirling maelstrom
crashes down streets
razes houses to rubble.
Wood, scattered shingles
broken pictures and dreams
miss their memories.

Rain screams down to Earth
hail of blossoming warheads
scourges flesh
seals eyes.

Sunshine tomorrow
promises hope
gives no comfort now.

The storm rages all



as far as I run.

Chilling tendrils find me.
I know she
will always be


I seek shelter
dry skin
to feel at ease again

but the unreasoning door
never opens.


(Please forgive my procrastination again on Part 3 of “All the Help I Need.” I will be getting to it, but for the moment it is quite difficult for me concentrate. I hope you like the poem).


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