Rough Winds Do Shake
Listen to sounds of temper;
vented fury
of battered trunks and splintered
knots
who swell in pitch, fork
sinister screw,
clashing shades of battered bitter
green,
blacking eyes with her
boundless hues.
It’s foolish to try to scour
this prospect:
you will never be able to
count them all
and if you call on greystone
skies to obey
her twists will field weak voice far away.
Uncork your infinite
uncouth squalling,
unseasoned rains to red smack
cheeks,
muttered threats you sense her speak
loom in watchtowers,
further showers
to douse in sea my unlit
wrecking fires.
Hear bulwarks shatter and
hearts crack
while I am only shouldering
it forwards,
but love’s strength lacks
and turns back,
our times still smashed amongst
others
are gone and only thoughts
of us remain.
Lives once bedded under
summer's sun
to flourish in flowers and plump
fruits,
glow in soft palettes of lavender’s
rose
are weather beaten bits to decompose,
these blasted trees will remember
well
those storms who toss and toll our knell.
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