The Prognostics

A black cloud bleating Over a trembling tree top Calls swallows to play. 2 Wet thunder drums light On the sizzled skin of air My lungs beat like wings 3 This is September Neptune's children play with glee On earth's anxiety 4 Africa's revenge Is full of hot air driving The sea to black rage 5 The winds come dancing The funeral song of trees Silenced in the clouds 6 The storm turns its eye Into the sun's white vortex And shed some black tears 7 A lone swallow flies Skipping spindles of loud rain Etched upon my eyes.