Storm Sonnet
by Tim Reed
all 'round the cold wind howled
as day shunned to share its light
and brute-beast bolts, they growled
as Smithy forged thru Hades' night
the rain quenched such glowing steel
as time ne'er saw nor shall again
and hammer struck such anvil peal
that spark-stars remain, remain
and on the dawn, he honed the edge
and by the tide, he whet the blade
then he laid it aside with a pledge
and until full-time there it stayed
'til we ourselves wrath-fire fed
- then it clove the living from the dead
My Home
by Tim Reed
earth steeped in morning and evening rains
brews a chill sweetness, rich and subtle
unappreciated by those who can only see and have forgotten
to smell, taste, feel, and hear
(the yellow sun is such a paltry bauble)
gentle light, softened by downy cloud-batting
kindly wakens
grey, green, blue, brown
I sleep on mossbed 'neath a fir chapel
there is something different about a train horn
when it passes through the fog
it is like a secret lullaby
as you are held in your mother's lap
intimacy
earth, water, tree, and stone
convene, commune
family
