Him Poem by Areese Woodson

Storm clouds gather,
And sheath the mountains.
Gloomy shades paint the aura
And flow through the weeds,
As my emotions mirror the mood of Earth.
Sickened tepid airs choke the winds.
She tries to send some rain,
But all it does is cascade off the gutter
And plummet breathless on umbrellas.
Any piece of warmth floating in the wind is cleaved by drafts infringing the fields.
Gloom sits,
Sways,
And says...
He's here to stay.