Becalmed

Let Genesis speak of light with arcane vocabulary, Shafts of dawning, worms of glowing, Splitting through the black night-capped skull, Pale scimitars of drizzle painting winds blowing. Now the storm had died away, mere twitching left, Nerves of branch and reed, spasm crippled and crawling, Bristling combs of dead god breath, sighing, Rippling the dew dropped grass, restless trawling. The brandy tincture stained the remnant red sky, Raked coals wetted and sizzled in the span of day, Felled trees, spines snapped, boughs dislocated, Leaves paralysed and becalmed as night blew away.