In the silence before the storm
I can feel you.
I can sense the change
darkening your soul.
As each gentle dropp lands
you turn away
before thunder heralds words
held, so far,
upon your tongue.
Remind yourself one more time
that once given
cannot be retrieved,
and heady damage
Close your eyes
within the steady hum
of a cleansing storm.
Breathe in decision,
then carefully speak.
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Comments about this poem (Anticipation by Viola Grey )
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