In Its Wake Leaves All To Mourn
Cruel, savage wind how thee scorn
Howling like wolves with much to say
In its wake leaves all to mourn
Grasped with biting breath and torn
Frenzy hunter feeding on prey
Cruel, savage wind how thee scorn
Fragile red flowers are shorn
Petals splayed like blood after slay
In its wake leaves all to mourn
Trees fiercely blown are forlorn
Limbs hanging adown left to sway
Cruel, savage wind how thee scorn
Gales of wailing until morn
Mocking fear with its feral way
In its wake leaves all to mourn
Arrival of dawn for reborn
Lays rest to a past woeful day
Cruel, savage wind how thee scorn
In its wake leaves all to mourn
Copyright © Christina Bowring | Year Posted 2023
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment