at midnight the candles flare back to life. air shimmers through a gap in the wall, cement eroded from years of storm and wind. the flames flutter dancing on a lengthening wick. on the table, drops of wax accumulate, clumping along the faded wood. rain lashes along the window, turning the forest into a mass of… Continue reading tremble


the wind rattles around the window, slipping insidiously through the tiny gap of frame and glass. outside, there's a storm coming in. there's a promise of rain in the air, hidden deep under mystery clouds. cold air winds through the room, fighting the warmth of a tiny fireplace. (note to self: seal up the panes… Continue reading mysterious

storm warning (150)

if you watch carefully, all the signs of the impending storm are there - you just have to be around, watching to see them form. first, clear turns to gray - midnight navy melts into deep dark black, immeasurable. second, the gray darkens: pale gray on the first day becomes charcoal by the third. it's all the same, always… Continue reading storm warning (150)

about a storm (150)

she shook, yanking the ends of her jacket sleeves over her hands and pressing her lips together until they hurt. this kind of storm was unusual, one where she could only watch and wait. so far, she hadn't found a way to make it stop: headphones only muffled so much, and she'd know the appearance… Continue reading about a storm (150)

Poetry 101 Rehab: Rain

watch her: she is the rain. watch as she comes and goes at a whim, flitting through the atmosphere. she has the motion of someone who knows: she's transient. taps at the window, light and playful and clear. this is nothing substantial. (not even enough of her present to appease the gods) see her play jabbing… Continue reading Poetry 101 Rehab: Rain