“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label cold wind. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cold wind. Show all posts
Friday, December 2, 2016
Biting the breeze back
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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