Another poem. Please forgive the indulgence.
by Tacy Stine
Some I weather.
Some I ride.
Some I barely escape with my life.
You were the calm before the storm,
the in-between time,
that made me believe in hope again.
I let down all my walls.
I didn’t know you would become the storm.
I left myself unprotected,
and you attacked.
Stabbed me in the heart
then ripped the knife out,
turned, ran—like a thief in the night.
A bolt of lightning that flashes . . .
And the storm rages on.