THE SKY BEFORE IT RAINS

By Vera Von Monika

I don’t ask the stars for answers.
But sometimes,
they shimmer
as if they’ve seen you
in a dream I’ve long forgotten.

There’s a wind that speaks in chords
not quite music,
not quite silence.
And every time it brushes my skin,
I think:
someone else must have felt this, too.

I live in the stillness before the rain.
Not waiting.
Just… knowing
something rare is near.

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