The Storm
Ed Selby
[rwr20683@calnet.net]
Could I ride a painted pony.
On the howling winds of night.
Towards the roar of thunder.
Into the blinding light.
Could I dismount in the inferno.
And survive in single form.
To kneel in awe and witness her.
The raging of the storm.
© 1997, Ed Selby, all rights reserved,
appears here by permission
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