After the Storm

Wait for it, wait for it… another poem. Don’t get too excited, I know everyone loves my poems. Try and contain yourself for this one. Cue the poetry!

Neither a word nor whisper in the air

A man staggers down the street

Caressing a photograph in his hand

Wind gusts swirl through the tortured town

Toward a new destination

Tall, marvelous buildings now

Undressed with their gowns lying on the floor

Birds creep into cracks

Have no songs left to sing

To get scraps of old remains for their nest

Tears trickle down the man’s face as

His lips draw a blank

Memories flash in his head

The sun a familiar visitor

Rises to watch and spread love to the survivors

But can’t hide the hurt

Onwards to the next town

The wind lifts picks up the photograph

For a roller coaster ride

Circles around and places back on the ground

A school of fish once splashed in the sea

Now stuck to the sand

The man says a final goodbye

As the picture swirls toward the sky

You are probably wondering where is the pretty picture that goes with the poem. Well, I forgot to put one and was going to add one, but then I realized words without a picture really makes you think and paint a picture for yourself!

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