It's a beautiful day, they said. Not a cloud in the sky.
I squinted up at the blue space above my head and decided I liked it better gray.
When the wind whipped up and the thunder rolled, I raised my hands and drowned in sky as it swallowed me whole.
~October
CZYTASZ
Hiraeth
PoezjaHireath: (n) A homesickness for a home you can't return to, or that never was. For the home I haven't yet returned to. ***************************** A book of poems and the occasional response to writing prompts. Or both. My es...
