8 of 20

by Just another writer

Unsettling...

She tip-toes across
settling dust, reluctantly
avoiding those places where
soft breezes linger.
Just one cool, light touch
caressing her skin would be too much.

Within the gentle movement
of a breeze lies the beginnings
of a storm, wild, uncontrollable,
devastating.

She judges each step with care,
eyes fixed on the dust still
stirring at her feet,
knowing one misplaced footfall,
one wrong turn, could cause it
to rise once more...

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Poetry: Insecure

by Just another writer

Poetry: Insecure

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