Still the aftermath
Trees reach tall and wide, like We-
That is All-she wrote.
Painting by George Hayter (1792-1871), 'After the Storm' c. 1833 in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.
“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Still the aftermath
Trees reach tall and wide, like We-
That is All-she wrote.
Painting by George Hayter (1792-1871), 'After the Storm' c. 1833 in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.
And we wake up to a new day, the world crumbling around us. We try to put the pieces together, nothing makes sense- or fits- and yet everyt...