Evergence

Across the evanescent portcullis
of a shredded day,
Summer sounds filtered in dewy pastels
of a gull’s landing slide;
As in the clacking whispers
of a butter-bread rain,
Where sanity sacrosanct gleams the insane mustards
of a stormy sky,
And saner grows the first mutters
of a prurient day;
And night like a shadow crawls from awnings
of sombered lawns.

There culverts diligently rinse their vulturous shadows
on eaves of doleful twigs,
And drip silvered flowers like water-drops into bowers
of ancient urns.
There twiggy twisting worms betray magnetic inversions
of a hobbled storm,
And bright birds exalt heaven’s vaporous blandness
in speedy flight to dens of sta’gmites;
There the first thrashings of a shadowed earth heralds
in silent horns tinsels of chaos,
And ‘ere the storm reaches, night and day are embroiled
in fierce contortions of malaise…

Water gusted, wind poured, lightning thundered
in the bosom of the air;
People mooed, cows shrieked, hens shivered
in the podiums of the pens;
Sand ran, drain waters shifted, floorboards trembled
in the contours of the earth.

The day sat still, overwhelmingly ‘spectant
of even more cleansing deluge,
The night stood down, perplexedly knowing
of a tearing of the gears of time,
The near dawn towered triumphant, lashing fury
at all vestiges of nature that wouldn’t let it be.