Poetry

A dynast in the storm-razed 
polity will ask─ 
for a pardon. 
 
By choice there was 
no suicide. You will 
eat the clouds one day. 
 
Taking the brunt, ─ 
living near the sea of 
people, a window goes shut. 
 
Curtly, with 
levitation, the wind 
twists, one and everybody. 
 
An owl tattoo, will 
tell it all. The hurricane 
has reached your door. 
 
Aftermath was a 
conspiracy of silence. 
Every one was speaking of landfall.