Storm Chaser

Once I chased a storm

From St. Louis

To Chicago,

Your name a song,


Pressed into my lips,

The colour of your eyes,

Burning holes,

Into my waking dreams,

And I knocked upon your door,

But you were not at home.

The storm followed me back,

Hurling hail on to the windshield

Of my little red Escort,

And I saw a twister touch down

In a field

From beneath the save haven

Of a highway bridge.

I watched fences and corn scatter,

While the radio played Alice n Chains,

And the sky was green on one side,

And blue on the other,

With the graceful arc

Of a rainbow

Between the clouds,

Connecting the two.

Icy gusts of wind

Sliced through

An otherwise warm

May afternoon,

While lightning touched the ground,

And I knew then,

Though I refused to believe it

At the time,

That you were not

Meant for me,

And yet,

I chase you still,

My storm.

No violent rain

Can ever extinguish

That which I have truly loved,

But it has made me bitter.



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