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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=463595" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>An Intruder 5 cont.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">That night there was a terrible storm.<br>The winds whistled like bombs afalling, <br>Seeking but not finding their intended<br>Targets, then exploding anyway, <br>sowing fluid ruin. It was neverever still; <br>Rain pelted the windowpane<br>With individual drops that coalesced<br>Into shifty-eyed gremlins, flattening their<br>Noses against the glass, emitting their tongues, <br>Rapping and demanding entry.<br>Lightning ripped the sky from the Bridge<br>Of Brooklyn to the Heights of Inwood<br>And made the room momently bright<br>With flickering, livid pseudo-daylight. Profundo<br>Thunder banged a kettle, now and then<br>Or rattled heaven's bowl, or<br>Sang jagged basso in the unholy choir of elements.<br>Great, sturgeon-like winds swam north to south<br>Nosing around shreds of red-underlit cloud (presumably) <br>And slipping about the tops of skyscrapers.<br>Something urn-like, made of pressed plastic<br>Rolled around hollowly in my dreams<br>Troubling them like a letter from a lawyer.<br>I imagined Pigeon in her flowerpot<br>The pot slowly filling up with rainwater, <br>The pale eggs submerged (mostly) and Pigeon<br>Protective wings outspread, trying desperately<br>But futily to shield them from the rain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The first thing I did, next (actually rather nice) <br>Morning was to open the porch door and...</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Morgan+Michaels">Morgan Michaels</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=463595" data-title="An Intruder 5 cont. de Morgan Michaels" data-description="That night there was a terrible storm.
The winds whistled like bombs afalling, 
Seeking but not finding their intended
Targets, then exploding anyway, 
sowing fluid ruin. It was neverever still; 
Rain pelted the windowpane
With individual drops th..."></div>
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