Rebecca Harris

broken clouds

I love rainstorms with 
light breezes 
and sunny skies 
peeking through the charcoal clouds... 
it speaks of a promise 
I cannot tell, 
but I know this: 
a miracle is coming... 
I can FEEL it on the wind- 
pumpkins topple on the porch 
as thin whips of smoke 
curl up from 
chimney tops, 
that heavenly aroma of 
burning firewood 
mingling with crisp autumn air~ 
perfection in a day

 

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Rebecca Harris.
Published on e-Stories.org on 03/01/2011.

 

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