The Storm

by ...

Richard Greene

 

The storm when it came
…………had all to do with love and charisma.

She sat there beautiful
…………as skulls are sometimes beautiful
when we choose not to fear them

her skin growing taut and fugitive
…………where the bone of mere being
showed through
…………and there was no full sentence left.

It was the vacancy
…………that we construed.

Flying out, I wrote of her
…………in a tablet’s pale light
as the hours peeled away
…………towards Greenwich.

It seemed through that night of transit
…………over the black water
I was childhood’s dupe and God’s.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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