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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #975972
Pre-adolescent me finds comfort in heavenly places.
How did a storm become a lullabye
And thunder the sound of peace?
How did lightening become beauty bright,
And why must rain ever cease?

This back porch has a roof of tin
It amplifies the sound
As fat raindrops hit, then roll off
Onto the sodden ground

I am eleven, and with my best friend
A basset with deep brown eyes
We crouch behind a red blanket, staring
Into the leaden summer skies

Grown far too big for a girl my age,
Too fat, too tall, bad skin
A speech defect and stringy dark hair
No clique will let me in.

So my dogs and cats become my life
And the changing night sky, my love
Inconstant, brooding, starry or stormy
It keeps me looking above.

Although alone, I am not lonely.
Acquainted with sorrow, not sad
I would not trade the chatter of friends
For one sunset evening I've had.

Rising to rush into the arms of dawn
My love will not wait for me
Resplendant in red, purple and gold
The sight sets my slow heart free.

Then the evenings come, and a single star
Promises many to come, soon..
And I count stars from my bedroom window
While hanging from a crescent moon.

For now all I need are my dogs, cats and stars
And the clouds in my changing skies
And once in awhile, the storms and the rain
To hide the tears in my eyes.
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