"buffeted" poems
Starfish on the rocks
Buffeted by the ocean
They never let go.
Mar 27, 2013
Mar 27, 2013 at 12:51 AM UTC
I started on the rooftop
The empty sky above was all I had
And all I needed
It was pure
Like a blank page
Waiting for a story to be written
But at the first sight of clouds
I fled to the top floor
There were fun and simple things on the top floor
Like Pokémon games
I got red, white, and blue
The monsters seemed so banal and repetitive
But nobody else would acknowledge it
Sending me into a dragon's rage
I tried using flamethrower on Charmander
Ending in futility as I ran out of burn heals
I looked out the window in frustration
Rain was falling outside
Inside
Patriotism was buffeted by the hail
So I devolved into a lower level
Going further down this building
For ***** and giggles
I found more ****
Less giggles
On a floor with a TV displaying the news
I was eager to learn about the world
Only to learn everybody hates each other
And nobody talks
Or cares
And the smartest person in the room
Is the one I agree with the most
Unable to view the tokens in my mind
As anything less than treasure
And those who try to persuade me otherwise
Are thieves
My spite steals tranquility
Like the persistent storm outside
My solution is shelter in lower levels
My experimentation on communication
With the general population
Had rained on my playful parade
But I felt very comfortable on a floor with friends
Until they saw through my charade
Discovering my emotions in disarray
As the people who made me love this building
Made me curse it's walls the more I loved them
I searched for the peaceful embrace of solitude
Once the storm outside transformed into a typhoon
I found that solitude
In a tiny bare room
With a syringe and spoon
I was unaware
That room was an elevator
That lowered me down the concrete void
As the hurricane outside rattled me violently inside my box
Trapped and lacking all agency
I resigned myself to wherever the elevator chose to take me
After the elevator finished pulling me into the basement
The tsunami seemed to cease
But I was buried under debris
I had to burrow out of my tomb
The dig was tedious and *****
My perseverance was heroic
But triumph was thwarted
When I reached the surface
To discover only wreckage remained
And when I looked up
I saw the building I inhabited
It's damaged facade
Made it clear
I would never visit those floors I missed on the elevator
Above my building
Hangs an empty sky
It's purity is a lie
The page was never blank
Just constantly written on and erased
To lure innocent readers into a tome
Jul 24, 2017
Jul 24, 2017 at 11:48 PM UTC
I
Not once in all our days of poignant love,
Did I a single instant give to thee
My undivided being wholly free.
Not all thy potent passion could remove
The barrier that loomed between to prove
The full supreme surrendering of me.
Oh, I was beaten, helpless utterly
Against the shadow-fact with which I strove.
For when a cruel power forced me to face
The truth which poisoned our illicit wine,
That even I was faithless to my race
Bleeding beneath the iron hand of thine,
Our union seemed a monstrous thing and base!
I was an outcast from thy world and mine.
II
Adventure-seasoned and storm-buffeted,
I shun all signs of anchorage, because
The zest of life exceeds the bound of laws.
New gales of tropic fury round my head
Break lashing me through hours of soulful dread;
But when the terror thins and, spent, withdraws,
Leaving me wondering awhile, I pause--
But soon again the risky ways I tread!
No rigid road for me, no peace, no rest,
While molten elements run through my blood;
And beauty-burning bodies manifest
Their warm, heart-melting motions to be wooed;
And passion boldly rising in my breast,
Like rivers of the Spring, lets loose its flood.
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I
I learnt this week
that time and distance
can be friends to memory
their respective lengths
only wet and sharpen
the edge of love
but for us dear friend
we hold hard to hope
that we may
one day soon
share the present
and live each moment
in each other's heart.
II
Hearing you on Holkham beach
- whose soul is greater than the ocean
whose spirit stronger than the sea -
did I doubt for a moment
that you, though buffeted
by a cold east wind
would never age for me,
nor fade, nor die.
Nor you for me (she said)
Goodbye, my love,
a thousand times goodbye.
Write me well (she said)
and turned and ran.
III
The Reedham ferry was but a river's width
and yet I stood at the water's brink
and watched the reeds quiver in the wind,
watched the rain splatter on the puddled path.
All around to the human eye
this valley, a plain of grassland
broken only by reed-fringed pools,
was a gentle, unpeopled, easy place.
The absence of relief left
no fixed frame of reference.
Places apart from one another
would concertina and merge.
Tempted to cross I waved a no
to the ferryman in his quayside hut
then turned and walked quickly
back down the long, low road.
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 6:29 PM UTC
I'm paying
for the careless laughs
I cast
at my poor mother in the past
when she would cringe
and turn away
as we sought edges
to enhance our play.
High trees and rooftops
cliffside walks -
whatever would extend the view
beyond the grim grey
granite grip we knew.
The humour lay
in knowing we were safe,
that these short frissons
were a break
between long stretches
of mundane and easy comfort,
free from pain.
Perhaps, we thought,
it does her good to gasp and shudder,
shout and blame -
she knows
that nothing's gained by shouting "Not too close!"
That just extends the game.
And then we're home
and she, once more, is sane.
That un-won wisdom
taunts me now.
The thought that fear was rare, somehow
that each new feat
of daring was a treat
the spice and colour
in a mother's life
which otherwise was dull.
Then, suddenly, my children,
you appear
and now I fear
that everything's
a crumbling clifftop
a wind-bent,
beetle-brittle branch
that you are twisted
in the fickle hands of chance
Your precious whims
your pale, glass-fragile skins
are buffeted by everything.
All ice is thin -
the wolves are real
it was not just the wind.
And even here
upon the edge of morning
misfired wires
inside your precious head
could make a storm-tossed life-raft
of your cozy bed
I stand beside you, out of reach
though long prepared
to meet the reason I am scared.
You curl and shrink
turn glassy eyes towards the wall
while I await the blow
that, thank God, doesn't fall,
this time
my youthful self
has found a cliff to climb
above a rocky beach
and cackles
at his mother's panicked call.
Oct 5, 2017
Oct 5, 2017 at 4:05 PM UTC
I saw her again, there at the hospital
Her hair had begun to silver in early autumn
She was no longer the child
That I had tried to protect, but a grown woman
She was now a matriarch
And she had developed steel in her soul
The years of neglect had been a fire
That forged her an inner strength
Burned the Iron until it became hardened
Even better than it would have been
We talked in the hushed waiting room
All echoes of happiness muffled by the sadness
That clung to the walls like padding
We walked the sterile halls
Scrubbed clean of tears and smiled sad smiles at each other
It was her first death as the matriarch
And she was in charge of this thing, this dying
She was the one who had the strength
To keep everyone else together
Keep them functioning, even if robotic
They did whatever task she gave them
Feeling as if they had accomplished something
And forgetting for a moment
I was proud when I saw her, even through the sadness
Although it was no work of mine
I felt that I had let her down
As I couldn't protect her from the unspeakable things
That visited her daily and worse, nightly
She had been so young and vulnerable, but no more
She was strong and stable,
The rock that the rest of the family could anchor to
As they were buffeted in a hopeless ocean
Yes, she was now the matriarch and she was in charge of this thing,
This dying
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 9:31 AM UTC
Behold that great Plotinus swim,
Buffeted by such seas;
Bland Rhadamanthus beckons him,
But the Golden Race looks dim,
Salt blood blocks his eyes.
Scattered on the level grass
Or winding through the grove
plato there and Minos pass,
There stately Pythagoras
And all the choir of Love.
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Lord, who hast suffer'd all for me,
My peace and pardon to procure,
The lighter cross I bear for Thee,
Help me with patience to endure.
The storm of loud repining hush;
I would in humble silence mourn;
Why should the unburnt, though burning bush,
Be angry as the crackling thorn?
Man should not faint at Thy rebuke,
Like Joshua falling on his face,
When the cursed thing that Achan took
Brought Israel into just disgrace.
Perhaps some golden wedge suppress'd,
Some secret sin offends my God;
Perhaps that Babylonish vest,
Self-righteousness, provokes the rod.
Ah! were I buffeted all day,
Mock'd, crown'd with thorns and spit upon,
I yet should have no right to say,
My great distress is mine alone.
Let me not angrily declare
No pain was ever sharp like mine,
Nor murmur at the cross I bear,
But rather weep, remembering Thine.
2.3k
Anchor
Blindly walk away carelessly forming a separate destiny
What heart hasn’t been broken from loss?
Nothing but these remain a certainty
Transitory lives and times
This tension ever exists
Security rock solid always will be buffeted by change
Fate continuously at odds with calm calculated reason always set to resist
Dark doubts the heart will pierce
Fear puts able thoughts in chains
The mind enslaved death enshrined
Who hasn’t known this cruel master’s reign?
Held fast as by a strait jacket useless to fight
Heartless people consumed by deadness
In the midst of laughter lies a specter
Decency and safety shifts treachery always at readiness
Impossible innocence shocked blood covers the land
There is no freedom dealt by mortal man
This race and special gift angels sift
Divine pollination needed for character unchecked
Grace everywhere at once without a trace of its origin
The face noble the heart captured perfect gladness
The rock of offence removed
Stiff necked pillar of rebellion finally moved
Paths now sweet a life hid discreet
The waters calm the breeze a balm
Thoughts unbridled burning intense
Arrows of gold feathers of silver
Blessed be the nation who finds God to be their anchor
Jan 8, 2012
Jan 8, 2012 at 10:38 PM UTC
Kylie
A song bird with a broken wing the cancer like the archer’s arrow pierced the breast the spirit widens
Under storm laden skies from inward hush and silence an opening umbrella of prayer provides a shield
The buffeted retreats to sheltering rocks and finds the hidden stream within depths blessed bindings
In warmest recesses your steps guided by the unseen over and through this dark passing new findings
With down cast eyes you continue the dark streets the home of the sick and the broken pain unspoken
You came upon these deep downward steeps from the flood lights and euphoric accolades of fame
Before your lyrical melodies were joyful expressive now will carry weighty and knowing sterling acclaim
Mined from troubles hard unrelenting walls finally the richest golden ore through your feelings pour
A little ease by the mystical dreams when sleep restores still withdrawn faces in the moonlight so pale
For a time at heaven you rail to costly you barter all that is thine to own backed by a great pink brigade
You fight with unstoppable courage you lead the march you find ground unvisited you go on without fail
Beaconing to legions behind encouraging you carry the burning torch showing the way through the dark
This my only desire I stand in this human body frail knowing my limitations but from the fight I call you
Don’t be afraid and never say give up to many are depending your touch glorious women you defend
Say in song the mystery you found in a city all alone you met sisters not age defined all filled with youth
In your face I see the unexplainable the untraceable a strength born from conflict a secret knowing
This is dedicated to Kylie Minouge Melissa Eatheridge and all breast cancer survivors
Dec 1, 2011
Dec 1, 2011 at 9:13 AM UTC
1.
I used to bathe in the light of your love....
It suffused me with buoyancy.
It taught me to be gentle and kind.
You showed me how to be soft-hearted and giving.
I learnt unselfishness and endurance from you, through our trials against the world.
2.
I rode high
Aloft, on winds
On winds
Of your indulgence in me
Oh, and how we rode.
Together.
3.
We were in poverty.....yet we shared everything
Together.
We were harassed by forces.... yet we stood our ground
Together.
We were inexperienced in life....yet bent with humility
Together.
We were dreamers, you and I......and we strove
Together.
We were dealt untimely blows....but we faced them
Together.
We lost some big stuff along the way....and we cried, babe
Together.
We were blessed with wings....and we flew far (away)
Together.
We were roofless once...yet we took shelter from the cold
Together.
We shared triumphs and buffeted storms of adversity.
Together.
4.
We ate together.
We drank together.
We bathed together.
We shared everything!
Together.
We slept
Together.
We loved each other...
Oh, how we loved each other!
We ...... b-r-e-a-t-h-e-d .....
Together.
(Like now ..... in our garden)
S T, 03-04-2013
Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 2:00 PM UTC
A song bird with a broken wing the cancer like the archer’s arrow pierced the breast the spirit widens
Under storm laden skies from inward hush and silence an opening umbrella of prayer provides a shield
The buffeted retreats to sheltering rocks and finds the hidden stream within depths blessed bindings
In warmest recesses your steps guided by the unseen over and through this dark passing new findings
With down cast eyes you continue the dark streets the home of the sick and the broken pain unspoken
You came upon these deep downward steeps from the flood lights and euphoric accolades of fame
Before your lyrical melodies were joyful expressive now will carry weighty and knowing sterling acclaim
Mined from troubles hard unrelenting walls finally the richest golden ore through your feelings pour
A little ease by the mystical dreams when sleep restores still withdrawn faces in the moonlight so pale
For a time at heaven you rail to costly you barter all that is thine to own backed by a great pink brigade
You fight with unstoppable courage you lead the march you find ground unvisited you go on without fail
Beaconing to legions behind encouraging you carry the burning torch showing the way through the dark
This my only desire I stand in this human body frail knowing my limitations but from the fight I call you
Don’t be afraid and never say give up to many are depending your touch glorious women you defend
Say in song the mystery you found in a city all alone you met sisters not age defined all filled with youth
In your face I see the unexplainable the untraceable a strength born from conflict a secret knowing
This is dedicated to Kylie Minouge Melissa Eatheridge and all breast cancer survivors
Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 3:09 PM UTC
Flitting around
Feelings abound
Opinions change
There is no ground
It all unravels
And it dazzles
As it spins and spins
And the soul travels
Toward the light
The truth that’s bright
Buffeted by thoughts
Wounded by slights
And it weans
And moves free and lean
Away from its home
It’s seventeen!
And the dices
And spices
Fill the air
With chance
At prices
Running storm clouds
Lifting all shrouds
Finding out
And wondering aloud
Amid confusion
And intrusion
Sorting out
Ideas’ illusions
And the heart stops
And the shoe drops
Pains infuses
Where the ball hops
Changing, flexing
Bursting, connecting
The chrysalis emerges
Cocoon dissecting
Feb 14, 2010
Feb 14, 2010 at 9:24 AM UTC
What if the Earth stopped its long flight and finally stood still?
the gods controlling the universe, hiding in our footsteps, suddenly tired of our inadequacies and decided
to end this grand cosmic charade.
Coming out of Shadows
and out of foot steps . perception
torn asunder
and reality recognized as our own inept construct. When in truth perhaps, buy some vain hope,
those ideas invoices we held dear ,
like pin ****** a lighthouse is in the dark and vast ocean,
are found to be merely sparks in the wind,
buffeted and intangible
and the earth suddenly stops.
And the asteroid belt is too small.
and the combusting Sun fails.
And the most frightening possibility of all ?
Will foot steps fade into darkness?
will there be time to dig a final grave what to say last
goodbye?
And will we be seen as works in progress or graded as complete?
Jul 13, 2013
Jul 13, 2013 at 12:40 AM UTC
Limbo
Black hole quasar pulsar star meridians oblique oracle messages from beyond the lost between the bureau of the forgotten
Dreams images disjointed some admirably projected on the screen of the mind they tell you a mystery where is the key
Like being in a library books everywhere any subject any topic whatever your taste or fancy but without retrieval how rotten
Space fascinates holds men enthralled the searching of the cosmos the whole of life it has consumed the overly curious
What I’m talking about is if you could take a meteor shower put it in a black velvet bag capture true magic hold for your disposal
Take droplets of rain speak to them and they would obey your voice become for one hour that which you desire most from life
Find the passage to the center of the mountain a gapping cave where a true oracle is beheld divine utterance her real espousal
You take knowledge long hidden disperse it among the most troubled and confused and aura breaks and arches those of need
Life’s dilemmas and contrasts these intangible twisted knotted fields of gloom you touch bows unknown understanding blooms
Course contrary buffeted by unpleasant wind oh to know how to rescind make rays of hope grow in resplendent rows
The common coal fired and pressured over millennia does purist light ignite the mind soul and heart in excitement it consumes
Striation found in the cold glacier this natural marking take from it learn the soul has divine grooves that only play spiritual tunes
This might sound farfetched but one day it will be the norm for Gods family the unexpected the unbelievable your daily life
Now we are in neutral or the drive is mostly in the natural like you build the best house then someone sticks up an eye sore
There is the contrast the conflict your spiritual house shines then your enemy self wrecks and devalues ruination rife
The spirit oracle revealed that the devil wants you as a trophy in a case how nice God wants you but he wants you as family
Jan 1, 2012
Jan 1, 2012 at 8:43 PM UTC
Red jagged rocks are mirrored by a calming lake,
A boy stands there, restless, shrouded in a woolly jumper,
Above his head brooding clouds echo his unsettled mood,
They roll and roar across the sky, no purpose, no restraint,
Then, a moment of clarity—peace to the madness,
It flickers,
Then it falls,
Let it fall,
A perfect pure snow flake,
Winter’s first,
Swirling, curling….buffeted by cruel winds,
The boy now subdued, enchanted by this concertina of beauty,
In the scene’s ephemeral light he sees his desires,
This charming flake will quell his smouldering fires.
Now a drink fuelled room of pent-up angst and dumb excess,
The boy in the jumper observes a hedonistic scene,
Red eyes gleam, full of passion and lust,
But in this room full of people; just one caught his sight,
A brown curled beauty of the cold New Zealand night,
The boy, subdued now, in her eyes glimpses something,
Her brimming brown orbs flicker,
He falls,
Let him fall,
Deep within he sees his reflection,
A boy in a woolly jumper looks back,
In HER eyes he sees it again,
Snow’s first flake, pure and right,
He is content.
Jan 20, 2012
Jan 20, 2012 at 12:39 PM UTC
I saw a firefly,
By the flickering firelight,
Swaying through the air,
Buffeted by the flames,
And I reached out for it,
And I felt a burning,
And I opened my hand,
And found an ember instead.
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 2:19 AM UTC
*
"... Come,
catch her."
Rising;
anew
from glowing
ashes.
Buffeted;
by the hollow
of her
shoulders.
Swirling;
amidst sweet
handfuls,
gently
blown,
from the
cherries
pinkest
boughs*.
Wings spread;
"Do you see them?"
Flying
again...
Off
grid
without
a course.
Wild
sparks,
follow her tail
across an
ever brightening
sky*.
Let
her fire
burn
your eyes.
*Watch,*
as her tears
heal your
pain.
*Reach out,*
&
touch
each
silver lining
as
she
takes
You
dancing
freely
on a
breeze...
Floating
deliciously,
with
nimble
fae;
Spun,
in the
wisps of
tiptoeing
spiders.
Dizzy
together
(now)
with the sound
of their sweet
laughter.
~Open~
in
a sky of
blossom &
sparks.
~At One~
as
All
around,
she hears, quite
... unmistakeably ...
~for the sake of mischief~
whispered softly, with
each bluster.
*"Do you hear it too?"
*
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 2:36 PM UTC
But this state of mind
is not self-chosen
but ****** upon
by life's myriad slings
of suffering
and indifference
the body and mind
are first buffeted
and later bruised and hurt
marks of pain are imbedded
like those branded
on the backs
of sheep and lambs
to stay and persist
to linger on and to violate
until life's last breath--
to be mortal
to be human
to feel
to hope
is to know Weltschmerz
sooner or later
few could such escape
seldom does its intensity
subside or abate
the monotony
the sameness
the chagrin
the weariness
the emptiness
the unchanging taste
of repeated experience
the brevity of joy
the hard knock of constant sorrow
on the weak and vulnerable door
of the heart, already shrinking
and sinking
the too-quick ending
of a love-song
and the night--kiss
vanishing
at the first peep
of the day's dawning
the unbearable thirst that's only
satisfied momentarily
but never quenched
soon enough the spring
dries up and the drought
sets in to aggravate--the despair
that returns to roost, hovering
ready for descending
on the self in quivering--
life has lost its meaning
living is but struggling
the moon has gone into hiding
the stars are tired of glittering
the tides are waning
the flowers are drooping
the trees are weeping
and love is farewelling--
Weltschmerz
the ultimate angst
that festers and invades
our total being.
Jan 16, 2018
Jan 16, 2018 at 3:16 AM UTC
A
splash
overtakes
the stern and
rocks grind the
gunwales. Quick to
maneuver, draw draw
draw, easing the boat into
calmer waters; pause. A deep
breath to regain focus and scout
the stream ahead. White water, boiling
foaming writhing as it is forced reluctantly
along. Trout shimmer under the warm sun
cutting effortlessly through the brisk water.
Disrupted and scattering they flee as a stroke
breaks the surface, bubbles rise off the paddle
ascending like the decent of snowflakes falling
falling falling to the surface above. On this ground
blanketed by freshly fallen snow, water bugs dart
back and forth more quickly than the eye can see,
disturbing only a slight dimple below. These too
flee as the water is broken, cut in half, by the keel
of a slender hull sliding seductively over the surface.
The pace hastens. Unified, the paddler and boat
react and flow as one. Tipping forward over the
brink, the canoe shoots forward over thrashing
snow. Quick right. Dodging a fallen weathered
tree. Quick left. Swooping past a rocky isle.
Whitecaps breaking and eddies twisting, a
sirens song, drawing the boat closer.
Violent spray distracts from the call of
the sirens and the canoe is buffeted
from side to side rocking perilously.
Waves reach up in a welcoming
embrace as the boat quivers.
Regaining balance it soars
onward, leaving the
anguished water
with only a
fading
wake.
V
-AM
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 3:43 PM UTC
I have forgotten what it is to breathe
Deeply and long,
To drown in the sharp, cold hit of an autumn morning,
And luxuriate in the slow exhaling.
I have forgotten what it is to walk
Barefooted and bare-legged in the rain,
Across a field where the soft mud envelopes my toes
And dries a smooth brown.
I have forgotten what it is to stand,
Wind-buffeted and laughing on the precipice,
Sipping celebratory wine from a flask,
And impervious to the lure of the long drop.
I have forgotten what it is to sit in the park at twilight,
Lie face-down in the snow,
Sing softly in an empty street,
Swim underwater and naked in the sea,
Turn consecutive cartwheels across a late summer meadow.
Be held so tightly I can scarcely breathe.
But forgetting, of course, is the easy part.
Copyright Vicki Watson 2013
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 6:03 PM UTC
Where the sky is as blue as CG special tinting reality to a sharpened point.
The seas are. As warm as the womb.AMNIOTIC shock when I dive in.
I can smell beauty in the cool trade winds. My god made paradise here
Carried it away to parts unknown.
My god.
My lover set me free many years ago but I never returned to her tender
Arms. I had forgotten her charms even while laying in her four post bed and running my hands slowly over silken skin. The thrill was gone.
She is forgiving
She looks at me with eyes that glisten.
In the starlight. But time is not my ally.
Soon I think she will deny me
A lover scorned.
I must return to her soon or lose my identity.
Misting heat. Silent roar. Deafening silence
As she whispers me home. Whispers me home.
Night scents .
Blinding darkness bids me ***** forward to lapping shores
Sky so black and starlit that my eyes seek a higher dimension
of comprehension.
Her rivers run emerald and deep.Glisten in the setting sun. A million shimmering diamonds
run to bank in rivulets so perfect as only nature can conjure. I forgot her in my travails.
And she will reprimand my questing hand as cold and dead to her.
My Belize. My forgotten love.
So dismissive have I been as worldly thing have give me waxen wings for
flights of fancy far from my reality.
I am coming back to you my love though buffeted and chastened.
To you to rub my feet and sooth my soul.
I am still what I was before.
And desirous of more still.
Teach me,love me ,Give me one more chance
After all,It is your siren call that hastens my steps
to your embrace.
Homeward.
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 12:10 AM UTC
As I sit waiting in the storm,
My car buffeted by the wind
And pedestrians leaning
At impossible angles
Those few who dare
Perambulate
I watch the ferry that will
Carry me back approach
The dock at a crazy offset
With wind driven waves
Smashing in spite
Against its side,
Outrageous weather
And red travel warnings
Everywhere yet this ship
Will sail and on it will I be
With my car and with my son
Travelling anyway,
And such is my life
In many ways,
For there are many waves
Hurled against me
And the winds that set against
Are huge,
But ships are safe alongside
The Dock
And I would be if I would
But acquiesce
But ships were not built
For harbour's shelter
But rather for the open sea,
And therein lies the issue,
Ships should brave
The oceans swell
And so the same
For me
Feb 20, 2022
Feb 20, 2022 at 9:33 AM UTC
Leaves.
Inside out.
Living things
Buffeted by the unseen.
Wrecked into action
As if awoken violently from a still sleep.
The howling
And merciless,
Unending,
Exhalation from Heaven!
Not a creature is stirring
But for birds
Adjusting their navigation gear
After too many near misses.
"There's snow in the forecast"
And we will be stronger to face it
Because of today.
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 6:54 PM UTC