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The Howling Wintry Wind
Cold air whistles acquainting
me with Arctic Blast, when
roundly forcing acquiescing
into half foursquare corner, activating
most recent spate of
ideal linkedin warm weather
ah...,my favorite sweet
spot for read ding
partially secluded from
gossip mongers addicting
fellow nosy residents,
who rarely brave elements
of style lush nature addressing
natural environment, sans leaving
comfort of their hermetically
sealed apartment adhering
to zero risk exposure
even during pitch
perfect weather adjusting
cessation to renouncing
"cabin fever" administering
most potent panacea
for heavenly solar fling
nay, most every tenant
here at Highland Manor
prefers vicariously admiring
terrestrial flora and
fauna, even when nature
bursts forth with adoring
"The Rite of Spring" adorning
the snapchat buzz zee
flight of the Bumble Bee
the still frozen, yet slowly aerating
rib rock solid state terra
firmae slowly alleviating
thick slabs of iced over terrain
indiscriminately allocating
patch of landscape
legion limitless almsgiving
then as instagram dusk
preempts afternoon alternating
cathartic, fantastic,
and iambic anesthetizing
magic, opportunistic, and therapeutic
reverie blitzed, viz banshee screaming
mother nature's wound
dead spirit expressing
agony dost vent wrath
heartfelt lament vacillates, manifests,
and explodes analogous
qua red bull who readily
didst get smitten angling
to expunge anguishing
cumulative racking torment
hell bent on annihilating
primate responsible species
akin to a silent spring announcing
slow but inexorable annulling
guardian (nee abuser) role usurped
by Homo sapiens,
who need answer
for relentlessly antagonizing
writhing, lowing, and bristling
Planet Earth!
Copyright ©
Matthew Harris
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