Wednesday, 5 December 2007

Nose in the Wind by Mike McCulley

We call the dapple-gray
Snow-Ghost, we ride
her in the night

where the winter storms go.
We call the dog

Mike McCulley, WA, USA


Poetryman said...

Writing on the Wind

A winter's day dawned clear and cool.

Knee deep in the steamy blond grasses.

Man made clouds written on the winds.

Scribbling like a mad man on the vault of heaven.

Tree branches like boney fingers pointing at an empty blue sky.

And every where the bright winter sunshine.

Jo said...

gorgeous gusting, and Handrail, inspired.