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June 2017

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Godzilla, default

A Poem:

The wind howls over the field,
wailing, crying, hailing,
the wind howls and in it one hears
 the future's echoes do yield
to the past's ailing
before the new years.

Shadows rise in the night,
echoes, phantoms, bellows,
darkness's gloom speaks true,
but scatters it does before a candlelight,
fear becomes anew mellow,
and spectres friends in the light.

The wind howls over the field,
saying, pleading, wailing,
the wind howls and in it one hears,
the future's voice does shield
the past's ailing
and the present's new fears.

Comments

Sounds like central Australia. The feeling...