p o e t r y

struck
-a poem for  eve-
 

twenty-four,
twenty-five I counted.
the spans between lightning and thunder
decreased
bit by bit.

when I closed my eyes I could see her
standing in darkness at the window,
peeking out silently
through black heavy curtains.
I could see her wide-eyed,
gazing, amazed,
like in trance.

reaching out one hand into the night
she shivered slightly with ease,
wind blew moonlight through her hair.
with a blinding lightning storm set in,
rain exploded unexpectedly
on my burning soul,
my longing.

twenty-four,
twenty-five
I counted.
illuminated nature's power

struck