January 15
A storm arrived, in Vila do Conde, Arvore Portugal, at about the same time as I. With my name, Brendan, written all over it. So with that in mind, here was the night we shared.
A Return of the Brendans,
A stormy winter’s night,
As birds take flight,
with all of their might..
Clouds extinguish sky’s bright,
as the crashing waves extinguish,
houses light,
A church aspires on the edge of night,
shows no fright.
Awoken, by burst of thunder and light
from bed I alight, witnessing another sight.
I awoke to mornings light.
The storm named, Brendan
had taken flight.
Leaving morning skies and this Brendan bright.
I think now, I might go fly a kite.