a descent into poetry insanity |
| They say March blows in like a lion out like a lamb. This year, the lion came in, prowled around, thought about leaving but came back. A stealth attack. Today, as March went out, I felt wind's warm breath bending the trees, saw tall, dark clouds prowling the sky-- heard sirens calling their warning to the south, to the north, to the west across the river where the deafening roar touched ground-- leaving only chaos. Prompt ▶︎ |