Rain hammers the windows
and wind whips the trees;
others may relish the storm sounds,
but she does not.
Gray sadness seeps through the cracks
she has tried so hard to fill with joy.
Wrapped in a blanket,
she feels like she will never be warm again.

She would like to escape from it all,
to run free in the sunshine,
to dance in a field of wildflowers.
But there is no sunshine, no flowers,
and her inner song has gone silent.
She wants to fly away in search of joy,
but she cannot.
She is tethered to the sadness
carried on the wind,
and drowning in the sound of the rain.

--Elise Skidmore ©2019

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