The Worst Of Me Poem by Silvia Jen
The Worst Of Me
The whirlpool of wind,
made the leaves dance.
The torrents of rain,
flushed the colors away.
Will I too transform,
as Cold takes its throne,
into a howling wolf trapped in its cave of Nothing
bearing fangs and drawing claws until Daylight?
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Topic(s) of this poem: dance,leaves,trapped
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8/25/2026 11:55:29 AM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
