Poetry

Storm Front

“Any storm he could muster
could never make me want
to be anywhere else but by his side.”

He reminded me of thunderous afternoon showers. The turbulent winds up in the stratosphere. The deadly mixture of warmth and cold, colliding together like rogue comments at night. I knew with resounding certainty that I would take every facet of him. The good, the bad. And everything in between. I would weather any storm or howling whirlwind he could muster and it could never make me want to be anywhere else but by his side.

© Sarah Doughty

If that’s not devotion,
I’m not sure what is.

3 thoughts on “Storm Front”

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