September 29th, 2017

fly, look up

Poetry Friday: Storm by H.D.

You crash over the trees,
you crack the live branch -
the branch is white,
the green crushed,
each leaf is rent like split wood.

You burden the trees
with black drops,
you swirl and crash -
you have broken off a weighted leaf
in the wind,
it is hurled out,
whirls up and sinks,
a green stone.

- Storm by H.D. (Hilda Doolittle)

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