Wind “Haiku”

there be a storm a brewin’ me hearties,

coming in from the west, finistere

as restless as an ocean

Atlantic swell

crashing through the trees


stripping them naked

no matter how coy

no to figs leaves!!


insistent and demanding

not yet raging and

the wood burner sings


skipping between

the crescendos of breath

even ducks can’t fly


a kite is taken swiftly

to foreign lands

with no coming back


wild empty moors

collars turned upwards

wind still finds bones


it kidnaps the heat

from the fingers

no ransom, is enough


a primordial power

blows cobwebs away

a fresh mint toothpaste


and when it is done

the zest of lemon

tastes so fresh the tongue



“May Shai-Hulud clear the path before you!”