Tempest

One cannot hate nearly as much as the love of the hated always envelops the hurting, rejecting heart.

`



The clouds part,
scattering in the wake
of a rushing mighty wind.

The heat rises,
surging upwards:
violating moist cocoons.

The hail darts,
streaks of bolts accompany
torrent and downpour.

The tempest moves,
swerving past looming
mountain ranges in a flash.

The chest heaves
apprehension abated-
turmoil dissipates.




`

Reviews

[Gandré]

http://www.purpledream.com/frederickkesner/ -------I have been reading here, too. You have your voice, yes, I can read it. Wondrous waves, everything was moving, satisfying and experimental.