shelter from the storm, words

i couldn’t tell if she was the tornado or the calm before the storm

sitting on the hood of my car, sipping whiskey and staring up at the newly awakened stars, watching the clouds roll in fast, feeling the warm wind blowing from the opposite direction

made me think of her

the subtle burn of the sour mash

the twinkling stars succumbing to the onset cloud cover

the cool upper air meeting the warm lower current, the coalescing funnel

maybe the liquid courage kept me sitting there

maybe the slim hope of being torn apart by the buffeting wind

who knows

more importantly, who cares

a ground hog stood on his back legs and watched the storm, then looked at me like i was an idiot for sitting in the fat rain drops

he dropped into the grass and sought shelter

lucky bastard

some of us never find shelter from the storm

is she the tornado i wondered

or the calm before the storm

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