Her Scent

Photo by Aleksandr Neplokhov on Pexels.com

 

My sweatshirt still lingers with her scent
Pondering what all the flirting meant
Remembering the clouds glowing from the lights
Sitting on the hood, enjoying her company that night
I can still see her –  with her long blonde hair
She looked so beautiful standing out there

The Clouds Descend Upon Us

The clouds descend upon us
Stress compounding at this time of year
Getting darker as the days build
Waxing upon the fruition of fear

This world is a bloody hell
A disaster proven before the ink dries
Scorn for a distant foundation
Futility in which all hope slowly dies

The darkness returns
Looking for a story to wryly begin
Miscommunications falter
& I wade through my vermouth & gin

Image by Peggy und Marco Lachmann-Anke from Pixabay