"We shall not cease from exploration and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started
and know the place for the first time." (T S Eliot)
"A dark and chanted verse is what I am." (
Forough Farrokhzad)

Tuesday, June 24, 2014


When the winds from snowy mountains roll through
River valleys and rumble to shorelines
Shivering skies turn seas a deeper blue
And mock the sun although it boldly shines.

Wet sand won’t dry as frigid chill factors
Dive to an icy low that snap freezes
The skin of surfers and other actors
Pretending to bask in balmy breezes.

Clouds rush to flee the western sky’s expanse
Before sunset’s rays can singe their extremes,
As if the roaring squall set up their chance
To search for beaches warmed by kinder streams.

Then dark falls crisp and heavy like a blow
Of midwinter air fresh from peaks of snow.

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