October floods | poem

poetry

The wind shapes the trees
and goes on
beyond mossy trunks
bent out of shape
as an only sound, among silence
further present in the absence
of early dawn tractors
countryside commutes
gone like the ‘gull cries
that on calm days bring in
dawn risers.

The wind blows 
steady as tidal waves
towards flood roads,
fields once green
now brown from autumns tempe…