Still

still
I wait for the storm
still
chrysalis is norm
the fingers unfold
not gripping gold
still swollen and painful
and old
while I wait for the storm
now alone in a room
still
on my own
still
moon trumps the sun
in the slow
building up to the storm

still

for once it’s outside me
still
it’s riding without me
and I’ll continue
to wait for the still.