It is storming, storming, storming.
Seems like there is nothing a grey cloud can’t blow away when it wants to blow.
And there she blows!
The Present and the Future… it’s all knee deep in water.
Trying to stay dry.
Holding on to tree trunks.
Eyes closed tight, praying into their wet sleeves.
But the Past is not concerned.
Oars in hand, she is looking for a raft.
And she walks down the rain-drenched streets, determined to sail away.
And there she blows!
The Present and the Future… it’s all knee deep in water.
Trying to stay dry.
Holding on to tree trunks.
Eyes closed tight, praying into their wet sleeves.
But the Past is not concerned.
Oars in hand, she is looking for a raft.
And she walks down the rain-drenched streets, determined to sail away.
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