STORMS
By Margie DeMerell
There will be storms, child
There will be storms
And with each tempest
You will seem to stand alone
Against cruel winds
But with time, the rage and fury
Shall subside And when the sky clears
You will find yourself
Clinging to someone
You would have never known
But for storms.
Photo: The smoke came from the firestorm that hit Australia in 2019-2020. Taken from a running train to Central West in January 3, 2020.
