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Created on: November 09, 2009
Hawk in the Snow Storm
Feathered mirage of dim-sighted repose
this high god
bends brittle limb.
In quiescent scrutiny
masked by windswept down
he clutches, white-knuckled
the shivering branch.
Far below as observer, I envy,
the captive, blurred behind panes, frosted thick;
straining for clearer perception
seeking that better view
struggling for vision
beyond.
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Poetry: Storms
The time of year has come
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Like a video arcade
From off the coast of
As she approaches to ravish the land
We scatter like roaches burying ourselves in sand
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Swirling masses of cloud
booming, thunder loud
Crackle, snap, lightening splits
violent, entertaining, hits
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The Unmarked Grave
In icy waters, deep and silent
beneath a velvet sky,
The stars dimmed,
as the clouds came in
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Ne'er has the rain pounded so heavily as now.
With ever step the trudging slows.
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