The wave tumbles, stumbles,
and falls upon the beach.
The black, murky water turns
into white foam when it rolls
onto a beach or
against flaky cliffs and study rocks.
Gray clouds swirl in the
mixing into a
charcoal blanket that covers earth.
Wind rolls onto land
twirling, twisting, and tangling trees.
The storm is coming.
The water, sky, and wind
all warn us
giving us time
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Comments about this poem (Prepare by Elyssa Mathy )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
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Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
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