Grey Day

Grey Day

Sitting staring

The window spotted

A screen blotted here

This is a wait

For any change

In a darkened sky

Winters finger

In your eye

Barry G. Wick

Snow

Snow

Large flakes of snow

Fall on Iowa

These are reminders

Of the flakes of ash

That fell on Nagasaki

I feel their heat

As I wonder why

This comes to mind

Is it history

Or a forecast 

Of the fires to come

Barry G. Wick