Norwester

Silent heat rose from the molten embers of a dying day,

The grey asphalt lay sweating in the setting sun of scorching May.

A drop falls hither;

Eyelids quiver,

A soggy breeze from the wild wet west

Made my moist skin

Tremble and shiver;

Stirred my heart in its breathless nest.

The searing sun then drowned in a blanket of darkest grey,

Swirling nimbus gathered with vengeance

To bathe the fag end of a summer day.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s