After the Storm

Neither a word nor whisper in the air.
A man staggers down the street
caressing a photograph in his hand.
Wind gusts swirl through a tortured town,
toward a new destination;
tall, marvelous buildings now
undressed with their gowns lying on the floor

Birds creep into cracks; they
have no songs left to sing.

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

Onward to the next town,
the wind lifts picks up the photograph
for a roller coaster ride.

A school of fish once splashed in the sea,
now stuck to the sand.

The man says a final goodbye;
his picture swirls toward the sky

30 thoughts on “After the Storm

      1. Lol I’m ok at art but painting with words is much more fun and there’s no paint brushes to wash after :P. But yah the imagery in your poetry captured my attention right off (:


        1. “No paint brushes to wash after” <— this is so very true, but I do miss art class in Elementary school :/ Stop with all of the niceness over there Ms.! :P


  1. Thank-you for visiting and commenting on my poem. It provided a path here for which I’m grateful. Love your work. This poem gave me a tremendous feeling of sadness, but the hope glimmered through and made me smile. Very, very nice.


  2. Hi Vinny
    Thanks for swinging by my blog & letting me know you did :)) Gives me an extra push to get myself motivated to actually post something a bit more constructive soon LOL! HTK


  3. I didn’t even know you had posted a new poem. My reader on WordPress clearly is broken. What a beautiful poem, even without the photo.


    1. Really? Darn. Maybe WordPress hates more or something lol I was going to add a picture, but I was like you know what, I want the words to paint the picture for me and thank you!


      1. You’re welcome! Yeah, if my phone is right, you posted the poem December 27. I just got the notification forty-five minutes ago.


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