Member Poem

Sometimes she’s a wild fire, raging through the night.
Then some days she’s a winter storm, ice and fury unleashed.

Sometimes she’s a shadow, not fully here or really there.

Some nights she’s more familiar than my bedroom wall,
and sometimes she’s a stranger, beyond my words to call.

Some mornings she blows in, fresh as spring’s first breeze.

Sometimes she’s untamable, tumultuous as storm-kissed seas.
Some days I hold her close, as her world comes undone.

Sometimes we fit together and I feel like I belong.