My 85 year old mother glances out the window
at pelting rain and storm tossed trees
“It’s a dirty day.” she observes, content to be snug in her kitchen.
I gaze out the window beside her,
Secretly caged
Drawn by and longing to flee into the storm
to be one with the universe,
feeling the wind in my face
and the power of the storm pulsing through my soul.
It’s a Dirty Day
July 21, 2009 by AnnaMuse
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