Rage
The wind comes
from gentle whirr to frenzied whirl.
In a breath’s gasp
slams doors, seizes trees’ throats
in madness’ rattling dance,
presses on creaking fence,
throws plant pots against the wall,
sends junipers jerking
in a dreadful moments flare.
From calm to violence
in a moment’s stare
comes anger when the mind breaks,
throws cherished memories
against the wall,
sends hope swaying and swirling
in manic screams of air;
presses in the throat trapped tears,
in the veins pent rage.
The wind with all his sudden power
says nothing new, runs in the veins,
bursts in the mind.
Together we thunder
across the cloud cracked sky.
Ken's Poetry 
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