I would laugh at the notion of Mother Earth, our nurturing Gaia, but I do not want a mouth full of sand. This wind is vile and maddening and the one thing in all the world that will never end.
Unhinged (a seasonal poem) » mjh’s blog
The man rages
red-faced,
arms flailing,
he sputters and fumes.
Impotent fury.
The wind blowing fiercely
whips away his whining,
rattles and flaps
his windows and doors.
Unhinged, he rants.
His sensibility scatters
in the rubble of his composure.
The wind —
this damn wind —
wins. mjhListen to
Unhinged
(<1 min)
previously posted Fri 04/16/10 at 11:47 am
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