calm before after the storm poetry where terror turns to terroir and wind and waves to calm, peaceful, fishing with a beer and a good virginia tobacco in your pipe. there. right after the change, i’m flying high as the smoke thereof Share this: Share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr Share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook Share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email Share on X (Opens in new window) X Like Loading...