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Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Friday, January 9, 2015

In a Storm

source
The lightning's skeletal fingers 
pointed down at us
The thunder accused
"Sin! Sin!! SIN!!!"
We watched the storm
through the moon roof
Seats leaned all the way back
Pretending 
we were comfortable
Searching
in the darkness
Sometimes a car
isn't the safest place
in a storm.


submitted to Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Road Trip