storms gather above the treetops dark and swaying

alive with a story

The crows swirl and settle 

swirl and settle

black snow thrown up from a bicycle tire

the first fat drops of rain fall cold and heavy

with foreboding or with promise

There Will Be More

the air is cool and thick

my hair stands up on my arms

as I gather the light into my hands

beyond the radius of my lantern the morning

grows darker still

a roll of thunder tumbles in my belly

an unknown animal stirring beneath the blanket

within my blazing circle 

the shadows deepen

By queenofelves

Writer, artist, and magic-user. Lover of fantasy and romantic poetry. Always exploring!


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