Ashen storm clouds brew between the furrow on his brow
catastrophe awaits, luminous tears well, yet again, in her oval eyes.
Wind's shrill whistle carries away turbulent inflections of anger.
The injustice of it all hammers at the crown of his head
preaching to the choir of her, he trembles.
Bent and brazen, relentless in his mania, words spew,
creating a tumult of sorrow upon her waiting ears,
reviving past images of other foolish martyrs and the flames.
Spent now, the orderly disorder of angst relieved on wind
and womb in the ear of ever forgiving love, he sighs.
The sea calls through the salt of her tears, untwining the
hyper-vigilance, focusing the pip in a caring core.
Harbor views sooth with gull cries, summer soundings, gentle
heated revelries, love rises like a forgotten lullaby
on the cockles of the heart.