We each have our own reactions to tornado warnings. Some took baths, some soldiered on at work, others baked cookies. I nipped into a nearby woodland before the storm arrived. This is that moment.
Before
a storm
rustles
restless
clouds
swirl white and grey
like
flamenco petticoats
above
the pines
my
mind quiets
listens
to trees’
hushed
reverie
as
I wander
drawn
to silence
as
to Siren song
into
the woods
where
the air rests
thick
with the musk
of
not yet rain
~*~
