The Wind Begins to Howl

I called down the rain,
she obliged
with a subtle smile,
dripping down on
my skin like a miracle.

But in the morning,
that boy,
still in my head,
laughs when I am hurting
and even after all this time
has passed,
I cannot forgive him
and the rage
lingers,
seems to grow...
losing my dad
on a frosty January in Minnesota,
then for 5 years
I watched cancer
eat my brother away,
the hole that remains
could swallow the ocean
and it scares me so.
If there is a spirit
watching over us,
he seems a cruel
monster god to me.
And then the wind begins to howl.