Madness Revived in Distance Born

Never weary, the salt-foamed sea
comes to me in wild wind,
gray blood free in a devil�s
upturned, brimming glass,

Ho, the dark green firs,
hohamdollup the birds all swirling,
quenched the black beribboned streets
and moss-slick curbs, the emerald shores
of child-cake houses lined in rows,
with button-bells and blinds that roll
and painted eyebrow shutters,

Howling-gruff the call-forth bark
of scent-wise remembering dogs,
tether-worn with pale claws,
madness revived in distance born,
I run off to greet the storm.

January 1, 2006

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