I can see them
coming over the tops
of the trees
the lights at the
old ball park
the roof tops of
the old warehouses
the clouds pile up
some white as anger
behind them a grey wall
as deep as darkness
here comes the rain again
falling on my head like a memory
what I can’t see
is when the storm
will be over
if I am living through
a flash flood of
feelings and grief
or if the darkness
is settling in to stay
all I can do is keep
looking past the ball park
for any sign of light
Peace,
Milton
Thanks, Milton! Love annie lennox. Love your writing too. The light does come back!
Moving.
this has often been me, wondering if the light would come back or if I would stay in the deep darkness. The light has always come back. Thank God