The breeze rippled through the antlers of the forest
and trespassing through the day a ghost of love lost
hard steps on her feet and pushes into her sides
the violence of the sea as waves crash into cliffs
is not deep felt anger it is the vagrancy of a storm
out at sea being brought in by the wind that makes it
hurling itself at plant and rock with indifference
the way she shouted was not like that!
It is more like a branch in a river
she knows the sounds blown into each ear
do not engage his vision onto any horizon
love is more easily broken than formed
and hatred is only quelled by death
and until then, festering in the walk of old men
to their thrones
outside stone windows
The sea is vast this summer
the trees are talking candidly about the behaviour of animal life in general
so vulgar and impertinent
the bob cat stayed deathly still sitting on the branch
and the branch only moved when the wind tells it to