Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Breaking Storm

An epoch passes while I wait
The dreaded thing I anticipate.
It hovers like a thunder cloud--
A veil of gray, a funeral shroud.

The air is thick and hard to breathe,
And worries round my head enwreathe
My fears which only multiply
Like billowing blackness in the sky.

Then in a moment I hear a sigh
Of wind in motion passing by.
All that I thought would bring me grief
Was nothing--I embrace relief.

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