The Daily Post prompt is: Wind.
I thought I’d try a new form, the tilus, and came up with this:
The wind blows through the sedge
Bittern calls
Dusk.
But being a wind bag at heart, it seemed rather short, so I wrote a minute poem (what else) as well.
The wind blows lonely through the sedge,
My teeth on edge,
Winter voices,
Dark rejoices.
Bittern calls across the reed bed,
What the wind said,
Cold is coming,
Winter drumming.
Will the moon be full tonight or
Will the owl soar
Cloudy feathered,
Stormy weathered?
Wind blows darkly, moaning lowly,
You walk slowly,
Cries unheeding,
Love lies bleeding.
Brito: acusação é manchete, mas defesa “não vem ao caso”
