falling leaves travel like rain
on your cheeks when you ride the bike
across the storm, they twirl and line
up the road, letting you know the arrival of fall.
the buildings are catching the last glimpse
of the Sun, kites with shapes like sea creatures
are flying across the sky, everything falls into
smaller cramped spaces and i stand here wishing
i was born a Great Cormorant,
spreading my wings across the ocean.
i often hide behind my mask, hoping no one
could tell that my eyes are watering
and my mouth is whispering,
“how to make it all stop?”
t.l.
Tsunami of Words 