fog envelops the radio towers
illuminated by spring's first lightning storm,
the valley clothed in dusks shadows,
solid black and subtle white reflectors
a screen to the attic memories,
a past lost in budding trees of the mountain,
in the brisk breeze words left unsaid,
spoken in hazel eyes and coming thunder,
time unhealed wounds again untouched,
once the rain the healing drops,
a comfort lost in tears on a rainbow rug,
comfort found again in the grasp
of musical thunder and indigo streaks,
the cooling touch of raw rain giving design
on the edges of the windshield,
the view only changed by time and unhealed wounds,
forgiveness will stand unspoken in the storm,
left to be consumed by the thoughts of the unforgiver,
felt in the soul of the betrayed,
the reflection of time in indigo streaks
visions of a past left in the minds attic spaces,
in the fading brisk breeze the darkness looms
giving into fog to cover the valley
opening the view to the radio towers.
