a poem — Goes away the storm,
Has left a lot to reform. But why do I feel good,
To lose everything
That stood? Maybe, because
In my heart’s inner core,
I know,
There’s nothing to lose anymore. The only way now is up.
To fill again,
This empty cup. But I,
Fear to sow the seed or to reap the grain. I don’t want to be withered by the storm again.