• Michaela

Tempers

Static builds in the air

Silently, steadily.

The little world filling

With unexpected tension.

The storm breaks

All is wrong with everything.

The tempest squalls,

Wounds the lightning,

The rain pours and

The clouds make amends

And it passes.

The stars shine.

All is right in the world

Small and shiny as it is

And cleaner.

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