Merril is a wonderful poet/writer. Stay tuned from more writing from Merril in forthcoming Fevers of the Mind Anthologies.
The wind whispers, storms
over river dreams, the river seems
awake and wild, shimmering—riled
by ancient breath or humming moon.
The wind whispers, storms—
too soon the blue, the hue
of water-sky. So high the ospreys fly
through shifting clouds, the rustling loud
as the wind whispers, storms,
through trees, bent but proud.
The squirrels chitter, the deer skitter,
while blue becomes slate grey–
they hide or stay.
The wind whispers storms,
but the sun, bright-rayed
comes out to play.
And the wind whispers,
the storms have gone away.
Ingrid is doing a dVerse prompt on oral poetry. I’m not sure that I did it exactly. I often read my poetry out loud and adjust it. This is not the best recording, but here it is. 😀 I finally figured out how to post it here.