Celtic Weather
Clouds crowded together
Cramming shoulders blue sparks
Snapping lightning glaring searching
For someone or something to rain on
Twisting and boiling in angry gray clumps
The wind of their thrashing exploding on trees
They race with abandon berserkers in rage
Tearing and thrashing thunderous crashing
Blindly headlong as they wage
War on the world they engage
Bent on destruction they riot and roar
Without thinking or reason
Rebellious and bilious
Unruly and wild to the core
Copyright © Donald Meikle | Year Posted 2005
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