Bizarre Whims of February
With uproar, vexed, the bone-chilling wind blows...
the wooden and unlocked windows of the hut slam;
winter delights in the whims of February
that can be so destructive and savage to an unspoiled
haven hidden from remote civilization,
thus feeling no sympathy for the fragile maples:
bending, squeaking and cracking as if they were in pain!
The furious wind batters steadily,commanding the red-tailed hawks,
watching the hungry wolves hunt the scary deer,
to flee over the tumbleweed and mud-filled streams with agitation.
Dispersed by the gelid gusts, the bouncing clouds fret, and
illuminated by silver bolts of lightning, they seem to dissolve in their intense,
fiery heat; where's the friendly sun, the light-giver,
to make darkness vanish and restore tranquility in this
wilderness visited by bald and golden eagles? And is it a passing hurricane,
or a threatening storm with hail and snow?
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2010
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