I feel the rain waiting to be born.
I hear the banshee wind
Racing round eaves,
Scaring the attic haunts,
Making hambone frenzy with
Powdery limbs.
Trees now tilting whirligigs
Ancient pin, water oaks
Dancing St. Germaine’s dance–
Frenzy below amongst quilted colors
Ruffling the feathers of nature
Tossing the spectrum wide.
I smell mossy rain finally born,
Hear the clatter on a tin roof
Smell again the musty fog
Born of a sullen, moaning stream
And head for bed under the eaves,
Shared with a Banshee wind
And a hambone frenzy until dawn.
Jane Kohut-Bartels
Copyrighted 2019
Tags: Banshee wind, hambone frenzy, poetry, rain
Lady Nyo's Weblog 
May 16, 2020 at 2:46 am
This is an exquisite poem, Jane. And, I learned a new word..I’m going to use it to share with my poetry group if we’re ever able to get together again..We bring one poem of our own and one by someone else that we have read and appreciated. Yours is the best I’ve seen for a long time…With your permission, of course.
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May 17, 2020 at 2:33 am
Of course you have my permission. I am honored.
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