Sturm und Drang

Copyright © Isabella Dalzell 2019. All RIghts Reserved.

The freezing air closes in,

shrinks inwards as the opaque blue sky darkens,

particle by sooted particle

until the sky is black as night, frigid.

 

Emily Dickinson

lacerating herself with her poetry

on empty evenings.

Taking refuge in the rich inner life.

Me too; the glass of wine in hand

a twenty-first-century update.

 

Wind rattles like a drum

rumbling around the garden

throwing chairs across the lawn

landing with a hissing whoosh.

Bending bamboos low

tearing leaves from their stalks,

whipping the honeysuckle.

Blowing through the roof tiles,

whispering through the rafters and down the stairs.

 

A quiet lull. before the final wave of wind crashes,

and night falls through the mist.