The vortex rotated slowly
Dark and churning
Boiling like an evil stew
Descending ever downward
As if pointing directions
Straight to the devil’s lair
Thousands of lives caught
In the swirling black chaos
Dancing like a plague of raging locusts
Debris spatters off the windshield
I curse the day
Stuck once again
Smothering in the fumes
Behind a greyhound bus
Copyright 2009 Patrick A Granfors
Regis
It's out there, in the street.
Axilea
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. ;D
JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS
Have a great one
The Buzzard