the storm of '87

i dont know what i want to say
i liked it when we came to stay
i left my handprint in cement
but i never got to see you play
end of story.
glossy eyes
you came full circle
no surprise
i remember camping by the sea
with my youngest uncle
and how you laughed and laughed
you laughed your head off
tears and tears and tears
bows and arrows in the woods
a crater where a tree once stood
before the storm of '87 came
and nothing ever felt the same.