Storm
The wind is blowing outside
And my mind is stirring.
I walk to the window
And stare out at the rain filled streets.
Candle light reflects off the glass
And appears to dance to the rhythm of the night.
I run my finger along the trails of water
And imagine they are flowing to your source.
The smell of lavender awakens my senses
And I remember how you loved to run through a storm.
And I wait.
Samuel DiPaola 
Leave a Reply