A
branch scratches at my locked window,
trying
to get in
I
awake and look,
there
are no covers.
A
Wind breaks a drift of snow,
so
close outside.
A
garden of Eden has it's own seasons.
Thunder
roaring louder each time,
I
hear another.
But
hide my eye from the flash of light.
The
water rises higher,
as
I wade through blindly.
The
water has not drenched me,
but
yet I fear I will drown.
Where
can I be, but my own world?
As
it howls and blows,
I
will look away.
I
will not let this wind-storm come in.
I
will let it pass me by,
and
let another
stronger
storm
break
my window.
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