ForebodingA Poem by GeeThe calm before the storm
Barely a breath, the air still, heavy,
weighted with summers heat, a heat that labours the lungs and wearies, lethargy not lazy pulsing veins, arteries. Above, an artist's sky, palette born, colours all beneath in hues not named, not known, until smeared with brush and knife, textured, to be felt with eyes, heart. Whilst beyond the eye though not the ear, distant but nearing, a rolling rumble silences all, heavens voice thunderous, mighty, foreboding... © 2023 GeeAuthor's Note
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15 Reviews Added on June 18, 2023 Last Updated on July 24, 2023 |

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