Storm Sky...1994 Poem by elysabeth faslund
Storm Sky...1994
When the winds turn round
I may ask you to stop your
Rambling...
And stay...
A while.
Do you like bright hair in the
Morning?
Hair spray?
Would you like just coffee?
When the winds turn round.
Winds turn a storm...those
Beautiful bitches
Who know how to dominate
A clear, ominous sky.
Who wants to go home with
A bitch of a storm?
When the winds turn round...
I may be gone...
Nothing more than a storm.
Skies stormy-blue.
Blue.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 8:46:15 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Oh clever girl! ! ! ! ! ! t x