Collegia – Ode 46: Bluster

 

High wind shrieking
Through trees, and rumbling
In the flues
Old and crumbling,
Can’t hear speaking –
What’s the use?

Wet rain falling
On roofs, and spilling
In my shoes,
My soul filling
With fears appalling –
What’s the use?

Dark eyes gleaming
On mine, inviting,
On the loose;
‘Tis quite exciting
To be so dreaming –
What’s the use?

2. 6. 1928