Unquiet, this lull

Unquiet, this lull

Unquiet, this lull
before the storm-

(the wind whimpering
likes dog in a yard
)

We, who have weathered
storms before, watch
the glass descend,
nursing our silent
albatrosses.

(the wind whining
like dogs in a yard
)

With cause, fearing
the scent of thunder;
Hope will not
secure survival.

(the winds howling
like dogs in the yard
)

Only are scars
are proven fences.

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About elrondsilvermaul

I never know what to say about myself. I let what I write try to speak as to who I am. I can only add, here, that I am 72, live in a nursing home, am twenty years a cancer survivor, and identify as a gay male. I intend to use this blog as storage for poems? written over the long years (and still being written). This does not preclude other uses.
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