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POETRY 2024: Type 2 by Alyssa Johnson
Manage episode 412920922 series 3433904
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Type 2
by Alyssa Johnson
At treeline
I am small
I am one of many
In this storm I feel energy aplenty but still
It does not excite me
I shake like a struck dog
And whisper please stop
Hoping the mountains will hear me
But they won't
Because
What do I matter to their immortal slopes
That churn wind and grind fierce thunder through the sky
With eyes wide I watch the flashes
And count the seconds till the sky rips and snarls
Afraid to move
Like a chipmunk in its nest
And as the lightning moves over the horizon
Rumbles grow longer but less angry
My body calms but the weariness remains
I am a visitor here
I’ve never been so glad to see the Milky Way
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