Squall - Andrew Wyeth - 1986
Gray rolling over swelling blue.
White foam cresting, dropping;
slapping the blue over and over.
The sky darkening quickly
a smokey gray, a dirty dray,
bullet gray and now charcoal.
Winds swirl my hair every which way.
My scalp actually pains under pressure.
Waves whack shoreline rocks repeatedly.
Each tide washes higher- a mist rises over me.
My face wet, my lips taste of salt.
I lean now with the wind.
The water, darker now
seemingly has swallowed the sky;
the two joined in force- rolling in.
Michael A. Wells
The Mag
Winds swirl my hair every which way.
My scalp actually pains under pressure.
Waves whack shoreline rocks repeatedly.
Each tide washes higher- a mist rises over me.
My face wet, my lips taste of salt.
I lean now with the wind.
The water, darker now
seemingly has swallowed the sky;
the two joined in force- rolling in.
Michael A. Wells
The Mag
11 comments:
S F Giants?
You'll never get away, Buster, posing...
As Buster Posey. :-)
S F Giants?
You'll never get away, Buster, posing...
As Buster Posey. :-)
Oh delicious...this one was really fun to read out loud...
I was in the middle of the storm reading this! Great!
When I arrived at the phrase about leaning in the wind, I was leaning too. I love how you captured of the developing storm here, Michael. Your phrasing is so sensual. Thank you for sharing.
Can feel the winds blowing, the salt on my lips as I read your poem. Great capture!
There's nothing quite like a good storm and a rough sea. Nicely written.
What a nice flow this has...rather like the sea, in fact.
Good one!
=)
seemingly has swallowed the sky
Yes, I have stood upon the shore, with approaching storm and witnessed this!
Oh good stuff! Understand the sea and sky thing.
Anna :o]
A vivid description. Lovely!
Post a Comment