Poems can be observations of life…
flying, through the breeze
gliding above the clouds
eagles soaring high
I love it dearly
Always sniffing and hunting
My fierce dog Pharaoh
The anxiety of waiting,
waiting for your turn to go.
you will fall,
but you hope
to do your best.
And you’re off!
From the window,
I see the storm,
the rain pounding on the ground,
the lightning shining against the dark clouds.
When I see a storm,
I become mesmerized by the rain the rain falls,
how lightning is moving its fingers,
the low rumble of thunder arguing with lightning,
and watching lightning give a spark of reply,
I snap out of my daze and run outside to join the dance,
until my mom yells at me to get inside again.