Found Poetry 1,037

5/17/22

howls of the west
quarter-sized ice
us in our bunker
lights flickering
what can wind not topple?

after, a drive through the neighborhood
leaves stuck on houses and cars
some trees down
like they fell tired into bed
limbs, but not ours

clouds like fat insect abdomens in the distance
took a bite and flew away

This poem was created from Walden by Henry Thoreau. Click here to get Walden.

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