Gone Before the Storm

Setting nowhere
Darting through
Clouds of despondence
And I hoped
For taut strings
To be pulled
Or to be shorn.

In the passenger seat
Juxtaposed to an estranged man
I inquired a wonder as
The oblivious crystals slapped
The windshields,
"Is there a storm brewing? "
And he said "There is none."
Silence fell plummeting
With the constant beating
Of melted eyes
In the rigid sheens
Of the glass
And I have surmised
A thunderstorm
Inside the salty oceans
Of the bones.

I squirmed inside the chrysalis
Knowing that
The storm would not
Settle the willowing
Of serrated dusts
And I am running out
Of apologies.

The enigma is that
I am siphoned
Of rationality
But untouched
By naivety.

Everything slewed
Into the gutter
And I am to blame
For fulminating
The thunders
That beckoned
The coming storm
Do you hear me?
Can you see me fade?

poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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