Beautiful Moment P.C. Scheponik

I wanted to write something beautiful, but the sorrow of your leaving overshadowed my mind the way the summer thunderheads block out the sun just before the downpour. Everything went silent, dark and heavy as a sky pregnant with storm.

I was so sure the rain would come and drown everything. But then, one lone sparrow landed on the lawn, followed by another and another until a throng of brown wings and taupe bellies were foraging and fluttering among the dew-soaked blades of grass. And just like that—the poem began writing itself before me. and just like that—it was beautiful.