Storms

Everyday in a million things;
In the faces of people I don't know,  in pictures of places I've never been, 
In two penny tunes played out on distant street corners, in the voices I've never spoken to.

Your shadows chase me;
Down dusty roads painted by dusky sunsets, in a faraway town falling off the tip of memory
An evil wind blows ever so gently, rustling the leaves off trees that should no longer exist

Every night in a million things;
In streetlamps that shatter their light on cobblestones, in dark clouds of rain that I thought were spent,
In stormy nights that blow me back to cold old places, in the pain that haunts me now, every single day.

I see you.

But no longer when you're standing right in front of me.

And when I walk onward and try not to look back,
always there are storms in my mind,
and clouds at my heels.