She was the middle one,
blonde and young,
like a birch in white,
all lacey and cool
above the other two.
Time gone by was a
moment never captured.
Waiting was a glacier,
but time was for wishing
and time was boundless
as sunflowers around her
and music in the breeze.
Would he match her flame
that burned like midnight sun?
Or would he twist a tale
with a smile warm as
a patchwork quilt?
Her summer romance
turned winter white,
spouted into spring
when raindrops fed its seeds.
Then he walked through
the distant heavy mist.
She felt the quake within.
Her time was now.
Her glacier melted
with a kiss in the rain.
In the Whirlwind is a poetic storm that frees history from the cages of corruption and puts it in the hands of everyday people. Words are weaved into a new fashion statement that has nothing to do with runways but everything to do with projects!
