When the Night Asks You a Question

In the dead of night
By the lamp post light
A storm brews out of sight
The wind whips through my hair
In the cold sharp air
And I wonder if anyone’s there?

The wind picks up fast
From just a breeze past
To howling forever to last
The rain mocks my call
And continues to fall
And I wonder if I’m there at al?

Upwards the leaves start to fly
I follow their path with my wide open eye
And then I see the crack in the sky
Could a heaven so great
Yield to such a strange fate?
I wonder if I am too late.





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NativePrideGirl said...
Jan. 25, 2011 at 7:55 pm
i like it.  it made me think if all the fun i have in the rain.
 
Katara This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. replied...
Jan. 25, 2011 at 8:01 pm
Thank you very much! I do love the rain :)
 
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