Kit Kelen #180

180

windy

come to winter's windy middle

chairs are blown about

here's a new style for your hair

it's move your arms about

be windmill

or place the sausage

by the door

wallabies are in the hollow

grazing when I come – they go

smoke of the rise is my own fire

suggesting time to be inside

it's grey

and everyone sleeps in

under roof

or something fallen

let leaves prattle on

there's no one thinks

to flower now

the wind is taller than anyone

but a sun will stand above it all

if we can clear the clouds