View From My Window
Cold Air
I am drowning in my own world
lost and afraid
as clouds roll in
looking to be
shaped into something
different than from what they are
to the dismay of the clouds,
there is nothing I can do,
I can only grasp them
with a weather-worn claw,
grasp the petals and clouds
and the cold, moving
air that sweeps towards us
from the north like the Wicked
Witch of the West as she flies
on her broomstick towards
the Land of Oz.
lost and afraid
as clouds roll in
looking to be
shaped into something
different than from what they are
to the dismay of the clouds,
there is nothing I can do,
I can only grasp them
with a weather-worn claw,
grasp the petals and clouds
and the cold, moving
air that sweeps towards us
from the north like the Wicked
Witch of the West as she flies
on her broomstick towards
the Land of Oz.
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Cold Air
Cold Air
