A Wild Scudding Wind


 A wild scudding wind beats

head on, hard and raw,

face and chest afire

before its strength and power

all sound but the loud howling,

carried away

in the ferocity

and tumult of the day.


The tidal pools and streams

bend before the rage

ripples riven to peaks and points

shudder and vibrate

 the gale whips the calm

to fury in its wake                  

to set it in a palsy,

ashiver and aquake


Exhilaration of

blowing salt and water drips,   

the taste of the ocean

on dry wind parched lips.

the smell of salted mud and marsh,

rocks and flailing reef  

primordial smell of life

beginning in the deep


Steps become a struggle

as I smile in the glory

turning towards the maelstrom

of the raging sea  

standing tall before the ocean,

wild and full alight

and she triumphant

in full orchestral flight.


©Dave Kavanagh 2016

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