Claire V. Bogdanos

I press my nose upon the glass

And pray to God this storm will pass

We have been waiting ever long

The night moves on, the wind is strong !

When I was young I loved the sound

Of howling winds blown round and round

It made me think of Sherlock Holmes

Those scary stories, eerie poems

The moors, a place of mystery

And home to curiosity

I fantasized about Heathcliff

And often thought, oh my, what if ?

My life’s been full of books and things

They filled my days with fairy wings,

Now I am old, too old to fear

If life and death are moving near

And so tonite brash winds may blow

What changes if I stay or go ?