Wind Chimes

WINDBLOWN

 

 

 

The howling gale subsides

to lullaby proportions –

 

the wind’s bluster

suddenly becalmed –

 

I watch the scudding clouds –

their bellies washed

 

by a low surfing sun –

no-one has told them

 

to stop their scurrying

so I return to mine.

Malcolm Evison

27 January 2008

WINDSWEPT

the wind seizes the moment
turns tangents

scuds debris
through fresh accented
passageways

inertia becomes momentum

it takes
one’s breath away.

Malcolm Evison
08 May 2009

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