Strong Winds From the North
Small birds fall from their songs.
Sticks fly up invisible chimneys.
A strong wind unearths
the stringy and unlatched,
in the ruptured earth, makeshift mouths
gawp and gape.
Whoever has a quiet lamp,
takes shelter from the helter-skelter,
for the graveyard owls are loose,
their feathers are flared and fly
above the clouting forest
as it whips back and forth.
A north wind remodels
a cringing landscape.
We were warned,
the sky was read and foretold.
A pretty girl spoke ugly words
but we are distracted by cute.
Then of a sudden the sky erupted,
fell apart, while we were changing channels
to find a place of sunny smiles.
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