Poem – This storm has a name

This storm has a name


All night long the wind howled over the hill,

Voice of a thousand creatures raging, grieving.

Fury beyond answer, this end of world

Wolf wail to bring down trees, take roof

And power, take sleep and shelter.

All petty triumphs, bragged by day

Are thin sheets about the body, penetrated

By a wind that stops for nothing,

Cares for nothing but its own force.

Keening a lullaby to oblivion,

Promising no tomorrow.

About Nimue Brown

Druid, author, dreamer, folk enthusiast, parent, polyamourous animist, ant-fash, anti-capitalist, bisexual steampunk. Drinker of coffee, maker of puddings. Exploring life as a Pagan, seeking good and meaningful ways to be, struggling with mental health issues and worried about many things. View all posts by Nimue Brown

4 responses to “Poem – This storm has a name

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