May 24, 2011

The Wind



After e. e. cummings  

i have found what you are like
the rain
              (Who feathers frightened fields
with the superior dust of sleep.




The Wind

A storm woke this morning
an anger so resolute,  
it shook the wooden garden fence
unhooked washing lines
turned over bins
dropped hanging flower baskets
and made me hold on to a lamp pole
struggling to keep my coat on.

I have finally found what you are like;
the furious wind
your invisible hands
took me
shook me
and bereft me, a torn, brittle leaf.
your intolerable storm offers no pole
to brace.