Last night that restless spirit
within the winds' lament
came coiling and uncoiling;
yet windward her I sent.
For someone whispered to me
her true name in my ear:
'Pronounce it to dismiss her!'
But my intent too clear
she rumbled, and came rushing
and rattling up my stair.
I broke through her night-terror;
a long drawn cry burst there
out from my struggling larynx,
the syllables of her name -
sensibility and motion
restored to me again.
I took out from my wardrobe
the winter duvet, warm;
and under baking covers
rose up like bread at dawn.
YOU ARE READING
Gifts and Shards Vol 2
PoetryThis is the second and final volume of 'Gifts and Shards'. This takes us from the second month to now well over three years later, though there were many C poems in the collections tracking the seasons. There are no similar stories!
