Blackness of day,
storm clouds rising,
erase the blue sky,
hope and optimism gone.

Black, like the void of death,
channeled into nothingness
whirlwind of time
sped up, working at the speed of light.

When the body is long gone,
what’s been accomplished remains.
which can’t be eliminated
by the black storm clouds of death.

On this bleak and depressing day,
one’s thoughts turn to death.
Not so much for oneself,
but for one held dear.

Bluster away!
Sweep away the black,
return to blue,
hope and optimism return.

© 1999 by Rosemary Winters Tracey