T. Russell Bostic
Sparkle touch the water. . . then fade.
A shadowed figure distracts my attention.
She has left from all but my memory.
I look again, she is gone.
Sparkles touch the water. . . then fade.
Clouds fill the skies.
Darkness fills the day, as a cold
breeze rushes across my skin.
Thunder cracks, lightning leads the way.