Where does the wind blow but outside my window…
Whilst churning and spinning till trees are afloat…
My knees curled up on my chest
In a corner I sit waiting
For the storm to pass….
For it is best
To calmly refrain
To become one with the summer’s eternal coat
Of loud booms and bangs..
Wrapping my spirit in a mist so great
Clouds dampening my fright.
No bright sun in site.
I am but bate
To nature’s wicked wily ways…
Even in all my might..
A tempestuous frigid night.
Calls me to my fate…
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Anna Palmer comes from a personal background of mental health, and learned at a young ag…
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