Poetry

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Brittle branches
bowing, break -
wind whips wildly, leaves
scatter and shake, leaving
their carcasses deep in a wake
as winter advances with storm.

Emerging, converging
submerging in rain
it advances and dances
through puddles
and drains -
down from the hillsides
it covers the plains
as winter advances with storm.

Gingerly juggling
rain splashes on rocks,
slides past the houses
and rhythmetically knocks;
boats secured from their sailings
are now umbilically docked
as winter advances with storm.

Wandering whitcaps wash up
from the sea,
box with the boats -
and one boat drifts free.

She hears tales
of sorrow
across wide-oceaned majesty...
Still -
tide pushes her out
and history
shouts
warnings
as winter advances with storm.

Flying and flaying
it wrestles on a course -
propelled is compelled
to follow the force -
but
far from it's mooring,
suffers remorse
as winter advances with storm.

Rushing and reeling,
the sea slaps at it's plank -
reations resounding
all help draws a blank;
Fighting with fury,
she panics, recalling others
whom sank...
and winter
advanced
with
the
storm.

The sea swept and shifted
lifted up high -
the boat filled with water
was shoved towards the
sky,
showcased on mountains
of ocean
she did fly
as winter
advanced
with the
storm.

Settled...
and
mellowed...
the seasons swept free
all of the winter like parts of debris -
and there nestled snuggly 'neath
a knarled old tree
lay the remains
of the boat
from the storm.

Covered and cared for...
He considered its worth
properly patched, she was given a new birth;
strengthened, its hull wraps
now solid of girth
for
when winter advances with storm.

Tenaciously twisting His knot will not fray -
but give strength through a lifeline of hope for each day,
for this boat stands as a witness in life's
tiny bay,
for when
winter advances with storm.

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