The Inkling Volume 1

Gemma’s Poems
By Gemma Bridges
Hurricane
A crashing sensation of despair.
The black winds viciously tear
Through homes and the state,
Filling the people with hate.
Waves roll deafeningly into shore,
Rain pelts; ongoing like war.
Floods rise higher than the soaked trees.
Gone are the mammals and the bees.
A whirlwind of memories; gone
Yet the damage has been done.
Still
The sun smiles down on a park,
The morning dew once glistening; is gone.
You hear snatches of music from joggers as they run
past...
Yet there she stands, unaffected: still.
Clouds flit through the sky, like ghosts: never there
for long.
Shadows dance through the leaves (and you can imagine
the satisfying crunch).
Picnics happen in the sun: people pretending it’s still
summer.
Remnants of the ice cream van tune playing in your
head,
The taste still in your mouth - lingering.
Leaves brush her face as they flutter down - a caress,
Yet there she stands, unaffected: still.