by Kaelynd Brouillette on September 24, 2026
Portfolio
Small patters on a bedside window,
Nature’s lullaby sings a soft song
Clouds collect, howling winds blow,
The crackling, arid ground seems to long
For a rain that beats down like a giant’s drum,
A cymbal crash marks an electrified strike
The drowning waves are home to some,
Though small creatures and humans alike
Scurry into the shelter of brick homes and leaves they run,
To escape the raging storm and await the golden sun.