Like a muscular drummer drumming,
the Big wind
It gathers itself, twirls its sticks
Then swooping suddenly lambasts its
kit
Thrashes the coast, sways the trees
and rocks the boats
Lathers into it;
Its cymbals crashing are the smash of
the sea against the rocks
The trees running amok over the
rising mountains.
II
With a draught of this air drawn in to
fill my sails
To have the big windmills of my blood
rotate
And ******* out then across the bay
Up over the headland, out over the
wide open sea
A Colossus emerging and none to
stand in my way.
The sea comes alive on stormy days and gets into your soul