good grief

A friend of mine said I look like Otep. Aw. I love her for this.  Made my day. What a little flatterer. <3

in cold blood

The tree outside my window
leans to the left
banks to the right in the
heavy-handed wind.
It appears lazy or complacent as
it sways back and forth.
Graceful.
The wind beats around its limbs like
an angry lover.
It waves at me. I wave in return. Wait.
I don't want to leave a bad impression, it
may think I'm crazy.
Unfounded.
I wonder how it stands up
to the onslaught as the gale
picks up, turns violent. The heavens
above look down, dark with revolution.
Sinuous clouds reach from the sky.
My heart tugs, willing me to go out;
keep it from harm. I do not.
I am afraid.
My inaction may leave a bad impression,
the tree will think I am thoughtless.
Wooden.
It stands its ground amid the hell
falling from the sky. I watch in
horror as the tree leans to me,
reaching, imploring.
In wonder I watch as shiny, green leaves swirl in
unison finally breaking free from its mother's
firm grip; like a baby's tenuous first steps.
With a heavy sigh, it is over.
I approach with my head down knowing the
tree does the same.
Me with my shame, the tree and its storm.
After collecting shattered, scattered
leaves, I place them on the ground around
the base as an offering.
From the porch I risk one last look.
Twinkling in the sun,
I swear, the tree,
it waves at me.