That wicked wintry wind
sere-cut through
blew ants inside
made windows whine
slammed doors
and cause cupboards to swell
cold as-
Ruffles-too nice
a term to use for what it does
to the leaves and hips of trees-
raucous a more apropos word
in a nutshell...
Nothing gets done
and it liberally spreads crumbs
for anxiety to expound and nibble upon
and dwell on and on it seems-
I have not slept in years
I have no fears
I can spell.
And there is the calendar
-blowing me off
in the distance;
this instance the breeze takes all
the breathable air,
despite the futile grasps
at straw structures
-Nothing-comes
together in this weather
I yell.
Painting by John Everett Millais, 'Blow, blow thou winter wind' (1892) in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
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