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After the storm

By Suze KayPublished 2 years ago 1 min read
Photo by Osman Rana on Unsplash

It rained like it would never stop. The gutters

Crowded with leaves and kitkat wrappers,

No more dry spots to hop for.

It was the wind I worried about, ripping through the

Thin, sticky leaves of a spider plant on the balcony.


We mill around now, sundazed in shorts and tall boots,

To survey the street corners, to assemble the lost lids of garbage cans,

To see the tear-swollen faces of neighbors with sump pumps.

The water that gushes through pipes in windows and garage doors

Runs clear, smells sour.


I want to share this with you, if I can:

The sun is shining and the people are ok.

The puddles are enormous but the streets are clean,

Washed of dog filth and summer dust.

When the bus runs to me again, will you come see?

love poems

About the Creator

Suze Kay

Pastry chef by day, insomniac writer by night.

Find here: stories that creep up on you, poems to stumble over, and the weird words I hold them in.

Or, let me catch you at www.suzekay.com

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