WIND, MONASTERE DE THIEBERMONT 25 July 2015
Unreasonable ad irritable
Wind, I call you to account.
The copper beech shakes its head
Like a teenage girl its hands
sway unafraid while the rose looked
frankly, troubled.
A single bird flies behind the
Wooden Christ, who blocks my view
Of crimson roses.
draft 25 July 2015. Second verse next blog.
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