Even As Wind, Horrid Whistling Poem by james watkin

Even As Wind, Horrid Whistling



Even as wind, horrid whistling
Met with leaves us then
Shivering from, hours later
As affrighted men

So does a torment, traced from down
Some hall, historical
Produce numbness. Only Time-blown.
If out of recall.

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james watkin

james watkin

Melbourne Australia
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