WOTD murmuration 


The unnatural silence before the storm comes

Feeling the vibration of the electric light as it is my only witness to the pending wet sloppy doom

And it begins, barely noticeable, but swiftly is covers the tip of the grass

Soon bigger flakes patter against my skin, I lay back in my lawn chair daring to be entombed 

The clouds push out their Frozen contents, snowflakes curling around the edges of my face, turning me red then blue

It’s now 4 hours later, my feet are covered, the powder is above my ankles

Again the silence is only broken by the rythmic patter as it softly reminds me of home and how deadly it can be

Each flake tells me it’s life story as quickly as possible trying not to break the silence, but never truly attaining soundlessness

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