The clouds with growls of rain-wolves rumble,
a wide surprise that shakes men’s souls

from flashes, gnashes, hearts run humble
neath ceilings that leak though howling holes

and pounding sounds on surest shelters
to shake and make our fensters fall.

The pack attacks, with puffs and pelters
to rush as gushes, air-wolves all.

What are your thoughts on this piece? To me it feels incomplete, but I wanted to share it with you in the meanwhile.

It’s been a month of many snippets and only a handful of full length poems, none of which are ripe for putting online, at least yet. So I’ll appreciate your comments on Rain-wolves. Thanks.

On reading at night

Stack them all upon my head
as I down drowsy on this bed
do beg for eyes of light and day
instead of deep top deathlids sway
and sink in shades of pages grey;
all worlds within the waters weigh
a-tempting drifting, Jesus pray
my life come more than Jack no play;
please prop me up and help me stay
even, upright, night I may
enjoy the swash and ocean spray
yet keep the tide of books at bay.
  If all is gift, no gain when dead,
  a page into my dreams I’ll thread.