cold front

the sky turned
the shade of
melted rainbow sherbert
an orangish purple
with streaks of
raspberry swirls
a dense color
saturating the air
settling over the
parking lot like
a deep bruise
as the cold front
slides in shifting
the temperature
down twenty five degrees

the wind chimes
having hung listless
in the brutal heat
let out a tentative
song of storms approaching
as i wait patiently
locked in a limbo
of excruciating quiet
picking snippets
from the wordnado
gaining traction in
my stained glass soul

i wasted the day
lost in painful thoughts
now the light fades
the sherbert gone
to a charcoal smudge
no less heavy for
the lack of vibrancy
wishing the weight of
everything i am not
was less crushing than
the approaching storm
as signaled by the
wind chimes dirge
and the ache in my head
the hot wind from
my mechanical heart
hitting the cold air
and i am a dreamshatter
scarecrow caught right
in the eye of the storm


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