Spillage

I try to read the clouds
the angry, roiling, dark ones
obscuring the opalescence of the skies
no answer forthcoming!

my fossilized pain spills over
dangling over the edge
aghast and immobilised I watch
as it coalesces and drops in a puddle.

purged but now a hollow, scorched husk
I dither, unprepared to face the empty chaos
then rain starts to fall gently
the crevices slowly begin to fill.

Written for Sadje’s wdys and Eugi’s weekly prompt.

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37 thoughts on “Spillage

  1. There is always that pot of gold waiting at the end of the rainbow.

    Love the vivid imageries and the last line is hopeful, infusing a fresh lease of life.

    Have a fun, rainy week ahead dear Punam. ❀

    Liked by 1 person

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