ICICLE; CINDER
icicyle;
cinder
am looking out
of the window
waiting
for my next class
the rain falling
no snow
no ash
nothing flash-
freeze
nothing volcanic
yes, Mr Frost:
ice might suffice
or rain might drown us
after a thousand
days
and nights
rain
from above
and rising sea
before I do drown
promise to give
your poem
a final read
DE IRA DEI
there is much anger
in the weather
much outright hostility that
the sky wishes
to vent
but not
the sky alone
for the sea is rising
flailing away with new found
muscularity
and the power beneath
of the molten hot core
of the Earth itself
can melt human
steel in microseconds
completely evaporate
beginning to stir, as we
catch its displeasure with
every quickening
seismic
notice that
there will be
extreme steps
poems 2 die for