Month: July 2012

  • Sonnet 3: Wind

    Sonnet 3: Wind

    As furious as your moods, the dry wind Blasts through bones of the hillside home it shakes, Finds chinks, slams doors, slaps the raw façade thinned By anticipation of drought or quakes. Out of the nowhere, clouds picking up dust Scatter debris from some previous lives, Spinning blame across the field, fragments thrust Like hail,…