how the wind howls:
an enormous dog with jowls, heaving
its wet sides around the harbour, salivating
on the shore’s lap, pissing
like a bull, nipping
with sharp teeth,
dare
to open
the door, snap
back as in it sails – all tongue and air and tail
batting and blowing and licking your face
water all over the place
Wildly appropriate for the sort of weather we're having. I wrote this poem a few years back but last night cleaning my teeth I thought - bloody hell, it's like a creature out there. And not just wind, dear reader, not just rain, dear reader, but snow - and we live by the sea!
Earlier in the day in the Wellington CBD, I stood as soft flakes landed on my shoulders and hair. Everyone was so excited, standing outside like children exclaiming.
More poems on Tuesday Poem here including a lovely poem on memory by Tim Jones at the hub.
2 comments:
I love the idea of the wind as a great dog -- but also the other image you conjure up in your comment, of adults outside like excited children, exclaiming as the snow fell in central Wellington.
Love it!
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