Thursday, May 02, 2013

Where's My Umbrella?


Where’s My Umbrella?

I see the storm clouds gathering 
I’d like to just step back 
let them blow without tousling my hair, 
or ruffling my hem
I’ll come back when this is over

But it’s my storm
the winds reached inside of me
tossed me around
stirred up all sorts of muck
then splashed it on my face

Where’s my umbrella?
Do I have to sit in the rain?
Is this healthy, 
or at least normal?

Strong winds that blow furiously 
help reach the destination quicker
if my sails are receptive

5.2.13

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Raw Poetry

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Oakland, CA, United States
Writing my poems has been healing for me, and I find that sharing them has been too. So I hope you enjoy, and please feel free to comment. Did anything resonate with you? Bring up questions? Move you to action?