An Unknown Storm

Soon the tides will change

to lights beyond the storm,

an untold season whispering

upon an unknown morn

with iridescent glitterings

dancing across the grass,

reflecting sunlight’s gentle hues

like evanescent glass —

as quickly gone as they had come,

vanishing like a sunset,

the tinted streaks along the cheeks

recalling where the young met —

a place where one must be reborn

within the calm of an unknown storm.

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Fields of Flowers [a sonnet]