Monday, September 01, 2008

Monday Poetry Train #61

The Measure of an Ego
by Joy Renne

Gustav was a downright gusty fellow,
arriving on the coat tails of August,
carrying tornados in his pockets,
turning his fickle gaze on the waters,
his eye churning wave and wind into tears
and sending telegrams of fear ashore.
He came storming through our dreams strewing
debris about with busy abandon.
Birds and fish congregate in each others
parish learning the nature of no-name
--the new being nameless is thus blameless.
Rainbows noose the sky and news pelts the face
of land and sea with stinging seeds, sowing
wet and windy demands for attention.
Soon distracted he will burst out a door
his own flailing fists knocked through tomorrow
trudging with heavy thighs across time
leaving behind many sighs and sorrows.

2 tell me a story:

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