Nor’easter.

It was early in the season

Yet all the leaves lay dying.

We thought we’d have more time

With the plume and finery of the season;

With the golds and reds,

With the sun dappled browns.

We smiled good night last night’

Only to be awakened by violence.

The wind cracking trees,

Stripping our world of it’s vibrancy.

The destruction sped two miles in each direction,

And the East, West, North and South bore no resistance.

The sounds too were strange and stunning.

And I called you that morning to add to the chorus.

I thoughts my words were banal

Despite the storm that had brewed and destroyed last night,

I didn't think my words possessed any violence.

Merely the truth of our own storm

You however, found them destructive deadly, final.

And so,

It was early in the season

But our time had come to an end.