The sky is grey on deeper grey
And cloud on deeper cloud
And something dark is brewing
In this marbled evening shroud
And all the swifts have blown away
To safer lands than me
As I hold fort beneath the limbs
Of thrashing maple tree
And as the storm grows wilder
Dropping crocodile rain
I’m cleansed of all anxiety
Like poultice drawing pain




Sara Mathews     December 2015