Pedring

when you said you were coming
the men have already prepared the boats
and the women
their food for the kids

when the clouds drift away and
comes the darker ones
the roads have become deserted
and the city as silent
as a cemetery

nevertheless they know when you come and rage
and everything has prepared for the worst

trees fell last night
the boulevard cracked
and engines of cars drowned

and then the rains fall
all eyes stare forming images

that eventually do not come true
i sleep.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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