Tuesday, May 04, 2010

The wind takes every risk
rages past ragged cliffs
marries sky to land in a bond of ice
tears out,
roots up,
raises hell,
laughs like tinkling knives.
Through wicker limbs he's howling,
the maniacal bard,
at every chaos left in the breakneck path,
so consumed is he with leading apace
and without remorse.


GrizzBabe said...

Absolutely enchanting photo.

Huckleberry said...

Though I know we both have done dropped the blogging thing from our respective repatriors lately, just wanted to let you know that Sisyphus has officially stopped Rollin', due to the usual odd brand of trouble that always seems to find me.
New blog is here:

Huckleberry said...


Good Christ.
Maybe I should just give it up permanently, then...

Anonymous said...

lovely poem. absolutely lovely. UF Mike

Anonymous said...